


Mating Moons

by skinsharpenedteeth (Gavinscotts)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Animal Death, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Cabins, Derek's Beta Form, Explicit Consent, Forced Bonding, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Full Shift Werewolves, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Magic, Masturbation in Shower, Mating Bond, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming, Sex in Beta Form(s), Sleepy Sex, Somnophilia, Traditions, Trapped, True Mates, Wet Dream, i'll add more and subtract tags as the story goes, sterek, these are all i can think of right now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:17:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 85,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gavinscotts/pseuds/skinsharpenedteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles just wanted to get Derek's attention. Derek had seemed so distracted as the full moon approached and Stiles was feeling pretty neglected as a friend. Next thing he knows, he's magically bound to a cabin in the mountains with Derek all winter long and they have to figure out whether they want to be life mates?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cabin in the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter was originally written as part of Sterek Week 2015. I've decided I really want to see where it'll go. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> It's not beta'd and I honestly appreciate it whenever someone can point out glaring mistakes to me. 
> 
> ***This chapter contains some dub-con like content. It's nothing too big and bad but if you're worried about it then please go ahead and skip to the end for my notes concerning it! ***

****Stiles POV** OCTOBER**

It started out as a prank. Stiles hadn’t seen a lot of Derek in the past couple weeks and decided he was going to “surprise” him by jumping out at him from the backseat of his car. It was pretty hard to sneak up on a werewolf at the best of times, but he had a fool proof plan that he may or may not have conned Lydia into helping him with. It was simple, after their next pack meeting while Derek was still inside the loft brooding about whatever ill-advised scheme they were currently hatching (whether it be against evil or just what to do that Friday night), Stiles was going to sneak down and clamber into the floorboard of the Camaro’s backseat and cover himself with the blanket which always seems to be there and which would hopefully mask his scent from Derek’s super nose. Eventually, Derek would leave to go run some arbitrary errand and whenever he got to his destination, Stiles was going to jump up and scare him. Laughing would ensue, glowering would commence, balance and peace would be restored to the kingdom. Especially peace since Derek had been acting more surly and taciturn of late, contributing even less to pack meetings than before. Stiles felt this loss of bad ideas and interpretive eyebrow communication keenly and he hoped his little prank would earn him some much needed banter from his sweet sourwolf. 

The pack meeting came and nothing too dire was harassing the community of Beacon Hills. There were some witches in town, but as things went, there always seemed to be some witches in town. Stiles was only vaguely aware of the pack’s discussion of them once it had been decided to give them immunity until they proved themselves unworthy of it. The biggest issue of the meeting seemed to be what they were going to go for pack night on Friday and as the others bounced ideas over their heads, Stiles kept giving Lydia knowing, manic looks which she industriously ignored or rolled her eyes at. She was so done with his shit, but as a true friend she would allow him his folly, especially since it afforded her an entire week without having to see him in plaid (they’d made a deal and Stiles was only marginally concerned with what he would actually have to put on his body when you took plaid out of his wardrobe). 

As the end of the meeting approached, Stiles slipped Lydia his keys discreetly about ten minutes before he figured they’d break up to go off their separate ways. He’d been watching Derek the entire meeting and besides two confused glances towards Stiles (who, as he said, had been watching Derek pretty keenly) he’d continued to be silent and withdrawn from the pack. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, skulking around the edge of the group behind Scott and chewing absently on one of his fingernails. His entire posture seemed uneasy, like he was fighting being slightly ill. Stiles briefly thought maybe he should scrap the whole plan, but shook off the idea almost immediately. This was going to work and Derek was going to stop being weirder than normal, damn it. 

When the meeting came to an end, Stiles saw Derek draw Scott away from everyone and talk quietly to him. Narrowing his eyes, he watched the two converse with heads bent conspiratorially before Lydia tugged his shirt and walked out the loft door allowing him to follow her trail. He grinned to himself with the excitement of his plan gearing into action, forgetting about what secrets Derek and Scott might have with one another. Their discussion didn’t involve him and if it was truly important or juicy, he knew Scott would spill it to him later over video games without pause. 

The underground parking lot was the perfect temperature despite the chilly breeze that reigned the land above it. Stiles face split into a shit eating grin as he spied Derek’s Camaro and he waved to Lydia as they parted ways. He started towards Derek’s car instead of his own, feeling a bounce in his step. Stiles opened the passenger’s side door and pulled the seat forward so he would crawl into the back. _‘This is not nearly as roomy as I thought it would be. No way he could fuck anyone back here’_ Stiles thought to himself, picking up the black cotton blanket and easing the door shut and the seat back in place. He then wedged himself behind Derek’s seat and settled in to wait. He knew this would possibly be a long game situation, so he’d brought some gum and a bottle of water. He also made sure his phone was fully charged so he could play games under the blanket during his wait. There was a decent chance that Derek would smell him in the car when he got in but he was hoping all the times he’d been a passenger would help confuse his nose as much as Stiles having the blanket covering him would. 

Before long the wait became too much. Stiles wasn’t a patient person at the best of times and he should’ve known from the few times he’d done a stakeout with the pack that this sit-and-wait game was not on his skill set. His initial energy and excitement began to fade as he felt his eyes growing heavier where he slouched against the backseat. _‘A little nap won’t hurt’_ he thought to himself, yawning widely and scooting further into the crevice between the rows. _‘I’ll hear him get in.’_ Sleep overtook Stiles and the last thing he would remember was the warm smell of leather that lingered near Derek’s seat and the feel of the cotton blanket over his head, cocooning him in a muted, blissful silence far from the outside world. 

When he awoke, Stiles was spidey-sense told him that he was not in Kansas anymore… well, the garage really, but same difference. He could hear cicadas singing loudly outside and though the interior of the car was still dim, it was with the blue glow of dusk instead of the muted shadows of subterranean parking. He lifted himself off the floor board and craned his neck to look out the passenger’s window, using the seat to hopefully continue his concealment until he could get his bearings. The last traces of sunlight could be seen winking through tree branches as he took in his surroundings. Derek had parked outside of a small two story cabin in the middle of a small clearing between mountains and forest. The trees were more of a mix of evergreen and deciduous than Stiles was used to seeing on the Preserve or around Beacon Hills so Derek must’ve driven damn near to Oregon to reach this place. Worry started tickling his mind as he wondered if maybe he’d made a mistake to do this prank today. He also was wondering how long he was asleep and where the Hell he was. If Stiles’ bladder’s discomfort had anything to say about it, he’d been asleep for at least five hours. This was quickly followed by the grumble of his empty stomach which seemed to confirm his suspicions. _‘Well, Derek will sure be surprised now!’_ he thought, climbing out of the backseat and opening the car door. He shimmied out and hadn’t even finished brushing off the back of his pants before he heard Derek from the porch. 

“What are you doing here, Stiles?” Derek’s voice growled. 

Stiles jumped and spun to face Derek. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and was standing barefoot in his jeans on the cabin’s wide porch. Stiles gaped for a minute, eyes running over the manicured, but hairy chest and stomach, trailing down each dip of muscle definition and stopping at the point where the V-cut in his abs disappeared beneath his low slung jeans. Stiles heart couldn’t deal with the blood flow demand not breathing and being instantly aroused was causing in him. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times as he continued to stare. Derek rolled his eyes and stalked towards him off the porch. The bunch and dip of the jean’s waist line on Derek’s hips did not help Stiles form coherent, platonic thoughts. 

“Stiles!” Derek snapped, stopping in front of him and waving his hand in front of Stiles face. “My eyes are up here, Stiles. What are you doing here?” 

Stiles snapped his eyes up guiltily, meeting Derek’s which were overshadowed by his deep scowl. He smiled sheepishly and coughed. 

“Uh… surprise?” he said lamely, making jazz hands by his face. Derek’s scowl deepened impossibly. 

“You need to go, Stiles. It isn’t safe for you to be out here.” Derek started, his hands grasping Stiles’ shoulders to push him away, but Stiles dug in his heels. 

“Whoa, how am I going to do that? I came here with you in your car! I don’t have a way to leave. Besides,” he gritted his teeth and pushed past Derek to start towards the cabin, “I have got to piss like a racehorse. The least you could do is let a pack member use your restroom.” 

“Stiles, you’re in the woods you can piss on a tree , so -- Wait, Stiles, NO!” Derek lunged toward him, hand outstretched to grab him, but Stiles felt it coming and sprinted the remaining few feet onto the cabin’s porch. When he did, he felt a strange tug at his naval that distinctly did not feel natural. He turned to look at Derek, the triumph at beating him onto porch dying as he took in the expression on Derek’s face. Derek looked aghast; shock molding his eyes wide and his mouth open as he looked at Stiles from the yard. Stiles suddenly wished he was a different person because this was beginning to feel like a situation he could’ve easily avoided, but didn’t due to who he was fundamentally as a person. Derek, meanwhile, just stared silently from the front lawn, frozen in his expression of dawning horror. 

“Derek, what was that?” Stiles asked, his voice straining for a calm he wasn’t sure existed while standing still and darting his eyes around for unseen enemies. Time unfroze for Derek and suddenly he was a ball of action on the lawn. Derek paced and stamped his feel, cursing and covering his face with his hands, bending at the waist and yelling into his knees. Stiles scowled and stalked forward to reprimand Derek for this insensitive, explosive behavior when he felt himself being thrown on to his ass and back onto the porch the second his foot tried to step off. He cursed and rubbed his tailbone where it had hit one of the top steps. He looked towards where Derek was staring at him through his fingers, momentarily frozen again by the action. 

“Derek, WHAT. THE FUCK. WAS THAT?!” 

“Goddamnit, Stiles. Only you.” Derek cursed, dragging his fingers through his hair. He sighed in defeat and walked up onto the porch next to where Stiles was standing. His sudden acceptance to whatever was occurring jarred Stiles slightly but the tug on his naval again as soon as Derek passed the first step caused him to bodily jerk. 

“Welcome to the cabin, Stiles. You’re stuck here with me until we mate or kill each other because this is the Hunter’s moon and you have, unknowingly but not unsurprisingly, stumbled into an ancient werewolf ritual that would have been a thousand times easier without your presence.” Derek waited a beat for the information to sink in. Stiles stared up at him in disbelief and the beginning of anger fueled by his hurt feelings at Derek’s insinuation he was not wanted. 

“What the fuck?” Stiles started, staring up at Derek from the floor where he’d stayed since the force field had pelted him there. He took in Derek’s serious expression. He let himself ignore the slight about things being easier without him to focus on the real problem at hand. “Okay, so… Mate or die? Those are the two options?” 

“Until February anyway. If we last until then, the ritual may end unsuccessful and let us go. Most werewolves historically would use this time to find out if they were compatible enough for a life bond by bringing their potential mates here for uninterrupted alone time for the winter. The cabin enforced living together and cooperating for long, boring stretches of time.” Derek explained, tone resigned as he watched Stiles take in the implications. Stiles eyes unfocused as a myriad of ways of fill long stretches of silence began to filter though his mind and he stared into the blank space in front of him. 

“Please tell me you have Netflix” Stiles whispered, finally starting to get up from the floor by gathering his arms and legs beneath him, only barely glancing towards Derek while still ruminating on how long exactly he would be stuck here. 

“This isn’t a joke, Stiles. I came here alone because without a second person, the ritual would have defaulted and I could’ve left tomorrow morning. I’m not stocked for a long stay.” Derek had stopped Stiles from getting up by pushing him back down with his foot on his chest. Stiles glared at it until Derek lifted it up gingerly. Stiles did not notice what perfect feet Derek Hale possessed and would never feel a slight zing of arousal from being held down in such a demeaning way. That’s what he would repeat to himself until he died despite his body’s betrayal in responding otherwise. He did lift his eyes, finally focusing on Derek’s unforgiving, but handsome face. 

“Okay. Well, please tell me one of us gets cell-service because if we can’t leave til February someone is going to have to bring us supplies. I love you as a co-Alpha of Beacon Hills to Scott, but I’m not ready to be your meal.” Stiles got up slowly, checking his pocket for his phone and finding it close to dead. He didn’t think he had enough signal for a phone call, but he would try to text out. “Where the fuck are we, btw?” 

“Modoc National Forest.” 

“What the fuck, Man! Do you know where that is!?” Stiles started pacing, chewing on his thumbnail in front of Derek. For his part, Derek just watched him with a resigned look on his face. 

“Yes, Stiles, I sure do. I drove here, remember?” 

“Fuck. FUCK! Okay, I’m going to text Scott and have him tell my dad where I am and then circle the wagons and get him up here to bring us food. Will it fuck anything up if he comes up here?” Stiles asked, stopping to look at Derek who was considering his plan and looking at the porch rails. 

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, he’ll have to pee in the bushes when he gets here if he has any urges along those lines, but he should be able to push food past the magical boundary of the cabin without getting sucked into the magic. You might mention he bring lube.” Derek added as an afterthought, still looking around. 

“WHAT?!” Stiles screeched, scrambling away from Derek who watched him with a grin. 

“I’m just kidding. He can come into the house. He just can’t stay long term. 24 hours I think is the max before the house will eject someone who isn’t part of the potential mating pair.” 

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT, DEREK! LUBE!?” Stiles screeched, feeling a bit done with Derek’s attitude. Derek just fixed him with a look like he was behaving badly and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Well, for starters, in case we do randomly decide to mate I’m pretty sure one of us will want more than spit to smooth the way. And if we don’t decide to mate, that’s still about five months trapped in a cabin without internet. A person has needs. Those needs don’t include chafing.” Stiles just stared at Derek for what seemed like an eternity. Long enough for Derek to snort and walk into the house, leaving Stiles on the porch in the growing cold of Northern California in fall. He stared out at the clearing for a moment, phone forgotten in his hand as he wrestled with whether Derek was joking about the lube or not (and for that matter, the possibility of him using it to slick himself up in preparation for entering Stiles’ ass). Probably, but Stiles didn’t want to admit that the idea of Derek doing just about anything in conjunction with Stiles’ backside was probably in the top five of his favorite masturbation fantasies. Derek didn’t need to know that and Scott sure as hell didn’t need to mental image of it, but Stiles still thought the lube was probably a good call. A bottle with a pump handle would be optimum. Maybe two bottles because Derek did not need to know how much Stiles masturbated. Stiles looked back down at his phone and quickly typed his message to Scott, fingers crossed as soon as he hit send. He fisted the air when a minute or two later he heard the tell-tale ‘PING!’ of a new message. 

**Stiles:** _(sent)_ Hey, so…. Trapped in a cabin with Derek six hours away, bring us foods and lube.  
**Scott:** _(received)_ Ha ha. Good one. So what are you doing tonight, man?  
**Stiles:** _(sent)_ Being trapped in a fucking cabin with Derek fucking Hale six fucking hours away. For fuck’s sake, Scott.  
**Stiles:** _(picture sent)_  
**Stiles:** _(sent)_ Bring fucking food and lube. I’ll explain when you get here. Also, tell my dad I’m safely stuck in some supernatural bullshit until February. Don’t tell him that if I come home earlier it will be with a sore ass and a life partner.  
**Scott:** _(received)_ OMFG Stiles. Hunter’s Moon. FUCK! Okay. I probably won’t get away tonight, but I’ll head out first thing in the morning.  
**Stiles:** _(sent)_ Thanks man.  
**Scott:** _(received)_ Also…. Ew. Just ew. Don’t ever talk about having a sore ass because of Derek Hale ever again to me. Ew.  
**Stiles:** _(sent)_ Shut up or someday I’ll tell you how I became your pack mom. ;)  
**Scott:** _(received)_ Ugh, you’re getting seriously close to starving, man. See you tomorrow. 

  


Satisfied they wouldn’t starve indefinitely, Stiles finally turned and stalked into the cabin. His eyes bugged as soon as he passed the threshold and took in the interior. It was the kind of cabin that would be on HGTV if it had five more bedrooms and ten more floors. The walls were made of gleaming logs and the front door opened to small entryway that lead to a wide living area dominated by a two-sided fire place of large river stone. One side of the fireplace faced into a living area with plush leather couches and wood-and-iron accent pieces all toned in rich dark browns, blacks, and tans with highlights of turquoise and red. The other side of the fireplace looked like it backed into an eating area which faced the back of the house. The back of the house was attached to a large sleeping porch which had wall-sized sliding doors that could be opened for open-air dining. The kitchen was to the right of the living area, with lighter colored granite counter tops and a gas range. There were stairs directly to the left of the door that lead upwards and when Stiles traveled farther into the living room and turned, he could see that they went up to an open loft area that overlooked the center of the house. 

“Jesus Christ, why don’t you live here all the time? This place is amazing!” Stiles exclaimed, not knowing where Derek was but knowing that Derek would hear him. He heard rustling from behind him and turned to see Derek carrying firewood in from a side door that opened to a pantry and a secluded side porch between the kitchen and the back area of the house. He smirked at Stiles as he put down the wood next to the fire place and began building a fire. 

“Because this is a baby making cabin, Stiles. I don’t know if you noticed the distinct lack of neighbors, but there would be no one for miles with which to make babies if I lived here full-time.” Derek explained, smirking. “Also, it’s been in the Hale family for a long time despite its updates. This is where we send mates with relationship problems, potential mates for Hunter’s moon, and, as I said, making babies. Who knows how many generations of Hales have been bred here. It’s not just my house, it’s my families, my packs. It wouldn’t be right for me to monopolize it.” He looked fondly at the walls of the cabin, taking a break in his fire building to seemingly wrap himself up in the history of the place. Stiles grimaced inwardly and looked around. His being here was almost a mockery of the rich history this place held for Derek. He was almost sorry he’d ever thought of the stupid prank that brought him here. Derek, for his part, was changing drastically from how he’d been recently. His shoulders were relaxed and he seemed more open than usual. Stiles couldn’t regret any of his actions, however, if he’d been party in some small way to Derek being sociable again even if it was a complete one-eighty from when they’d been outside the cabin less than an hour ago. 

“So did you get in touch with Scott?” Derek asked, breaking his reverie and bringing Stiles attention back to where he was knelt on the floor. Stiles tried not to notice that as well as shirtless, Derek seemed to also be missing a pair of underwear if the swell of his muscular butt peeking out from his jeans had anything to say about it. Stiles thought if he shifted his weight just a little towards the kitchen he might see the barest hint of butt crack…which should not turn him on or make him feel warm inside, but God if that wasn’t just the case…. 

“Oh, yeah.” Stiles paused to swallow the near mouthful of saliva that had erupted from the sight of Derek on his knees looking expectantly at Stiles, “He said he won’t be able to make it out til tomorrow sometime, but he’s definitely coming. I told him…uh… about the lube. I wasn’t sure if you were joking or not.” Stiles finished, blush making its way up his collar and into his cheeks. Derek stared at him for a moment and then nodded, going back to his work. He struck a match on the side of the fireplace and threw it into the kindling. 

Stiles stared at him for a moment, his blush turning from embarrassed to exasperated at the lack of comment either way as to whether Derek was thinking about fucking him or not. He pinched his lips shut to keep from saying something and started giving himself a tour of the house, opening every single door he came across whether cabinet or closet and only giving what was inside the most fleeting of looks. 

He was pleased to see Derek had been lying about not being stocked because even though it wouldn’t last until February, the food he had would definitely last a month or so. The cabin didn’t have a dishwasher, but when Stiles found the tankless water heater, his soul soared. Exhausting the possibilities of downstairs, he tentatively began moving towards the stairs, watching Derek’s back for any sign that he wasn’t allowed to go up there. When Derek continued to tend to his fire without so much as a twitch in his direction, he scampered up the steep stairwell quickly. 

The bedroom was small and looked down into the main living area. It also had a skylight that Stiles hadn’t been able to see from downstairs that looked up into the crystal clear night sky. The bed was positioned directly under it and seemed to be a king-size platform style. He sat on the mattress and moaned quietly, flinging himself back and luxuriating in his absolute ideal mix of softness and firmness. He hoped Derek wouldn’t mind sharing because he wasn’t sure he would be able to ever get off of this bed again. He might mate with Derek just to have his face shoved into this mattress, it felt so good. 

Grinning to himself over his silliness, he sat up and looked around. There were two double doors across from the bed and another to the side of the bed near the front of the house. Stiles opened the one closest to the bed and found a cedar lined closet with extra linens and space for clothes to hang or be folded. Derek’s stuff was already hanging orderly in the closet and there seemed to be more than a day’s worth, making Stiles believe Derek wanted to stay here for a little while longer than he’d originally told Stiles. Pushing that to the back of his mind for later inquiry, Stiles walked out of the closet and to the double doors on the other side of the bedroom. When he pulled open both doors in a grand gesture, he found himself looking into the master bath. It had a large two-person Jacuzzi style tub, a large stone lined shower with multiple shower heads and a stone bench, a water closet that held the toilet and a single vanity with a large mirror. The color scheme seemed to be rustic, romantic retreat with live plants set into different spots in the room to give it a forest grotto feel. Stiles appreciated it aesthetically and could see how this would appeal to baby-making wolves. 

“They spared no expense making this a love haven, huh?” Derek quipped from behind Stiles right shoulder, making him jump and flail as he turned around. Derek seemed to be laughing at him. He was still bare-chested and Stiles was still hopelessly distracted by the sight of him, but now the sight was coupled with the smoky smell of fire and Stiles had to pinch himself to stop from pressing his face against Derek’s skin to breathe him in. Stiles didn’t think Derek could look or smell any more attractive, but apparently he hadn’t been camping with him because this was driving Stiles a little bonkers. 

“If you want me to have a civil conversation with you, you might want to put on a shirt.” Stiles sassed, glaring at Derek’s face once he convinced his body not to over react to the attractive, easily accessible, mostly naked man in front of him. But for a little denim, Derek’s body was on display for Stiles enjoyment and it was beginning to become a problem for him. Derek laughed, brushing past Stiles and into the bathroom. Stiles wondered if Derek intentionally gave him that extra second to admire to broad back and the taper of his waist before he turned, smiling, at Stiles. 

“If you don’t want to see me naked, you should probably leave the bathroom. I need a shower. I made sandwiches downstairs and the fires going.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. Derek smirked and popped the button on his jeans. Stiles saw the beginning of Derek’s dark curls and fled the upstairs, his cheeks hot and his cock rushing to fill with blood. He could hear Derek laughing behind him and then the hiss of the shower turning on. This was definitely a different Derek than the stoic creature of Beacon Hills. This was a fun, teasing, sexy Derek that wasn’t brooding or particularly angry. Stiles didn’t know how to handle a Derek who wouldn’t seemingly reject him if he decided to try and flirt or make a move. It threw Stiles off his game and he was determined to regroup while he ate the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that had been left for him on the counter. 

After his sandwich, Stiles found a throw blanket and took it with him onto the outside back porch. He nested with the blanket on a large daybed-turned-sofa and found himself staring up at the sky and wishing he’d brought a book or something. He heard Derek step onto the porch and glanced back at him. He was standing there in a towel, hair still dripping onto his shoulders from his shower. He wasn’t looking at Stiles, but past him at the night sky and the large, orange moon that dominated it. It seemed that his entire body tuned towards the bright orb and there was an almost tangible string of energy between the two. 

“You know, this is one of the few moons I can choose whether or not to shift on.” He said quietly, still not looking at Stiles but walking farther onto the porch and closer to the screened windows. Stiles watched him silently, trying to gauge his mood. 

“The reason is because of humans. Were’s can take a human mate, but sometimes in bygone days, the human didn’t know that their mate was a were. So we’d bring them up here to show them and give them a chance to accept us. But the moon’s pull…when you’re shifted… it’s intense and the actions are so much more animal than at any other time. It’s hard to keep your humanity on a full moon shift. So, while the ritual was going on, the magic that bound the mates to the house also let the wolves stay inside their human skin without any of the ill-effects that could be experienced when outside of the enchantment. But even now, when I know I shouldn’t shift and I don’t have to, I feel the moon calling for me and it’s like getting a love letter you can’t respond to.” 

Stiles didn’t answer him. He didn’t know how to console or empathize with Derek’s feelings and Derek didn’t seem to feel any need to expand further on his sentiments. He just stood there, loosely clutching his towel in one of his hands and staring out across the forest at the moon as she moved through the sky. A shockingly cold wind blew through the porch and Stiles shivered slightly, feeling his skin erupt in goose pimples. When he looked to where Derek was bathed in moonlight he could see that the Were was completely unaffected. The slight shiver from Stiles did seem to draw Derek’s attention back to the present. He turned and looked at Stiles huddled under the inadequate throw blanket. 

“Go warm yourself by the fire, Stiles. I didn’t build it for me.” He instructed quietly. Stiles was about to object, but Derek turned back to the sky seeming to retreat again into his silent communion with the moon. Stiles sighed and got up, dragging the blanket with him as he wandered back into the cabin and settled himself in the dim living room on one of the leather sofas in front of the fire. His eyes started to droop despite his long nap from earlier and he blamed the stress of the situation that he was exhausted so. His eyes slipped shut as his body basked in the soft, flickering light of the fire, his skin warming and his body growing heavier as sleep pushed aside consciousness to reign for a while. 

When Stiles awoke later, the fire was a bed of embers. He dug himself out of his nest on the couch and put another couple logs on the fire to keep it going until morning. The cold had started to seep into the cabin and he was chilled when he got too far from the fires warmth. After he saw the logs start to catch, he stood and shuffled to look out onto the back porch. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but finding it empty worried him for a moment. He looked around to see if he could spot Derek, wondering if he’d decided to shift anyway, until he heard the rustling of a sheet upstairs. Calming himself, he left the blanket on the sofa and padded his way upstairs to the bedroom. 

Derek was sprawled naked on his stomach across half of the bed, one leg bent up and his arms flung out from his body. He was sound asleep and Stiles suddenly wished there was more light in the room. He could make out the outline of Derek’s form against the white sheets and the barest hint of red glow from the fire light downstairs that clung to the highest crests of his body, but not enough for Stiles’ poor human eyes to truly appreciate what he was sure was a wondrous sight (and in a position that usually was seen at the beginning of his favorite porns). The dimness didn’t stop him from standing at the foot of the bed and trying to memorize everything that he could see. He knew it was wrong, but after a minute his mind began to go to very dirty places and he had to shake himself back into the present in order not to pop a full-fledged boner over Derek’s inert form. 

Sighing and cursing his twenty-one year old hormones, he walked over to the unoccupied side of the bed and pulled back the cover and sheet, briefly debating whether to disrobe or not. While he wasn’t as comfortable as Derek to go au natural, he knew he wasn’t going to enjoy sleeping in his hoodie and jeans either, especially if he was going to have to wear them every day for the foreseeable future. So he tugged off his jeans and hoodie, leaving his shirt on due to the chillness of the room. He left his socks on as well to help him retain some warmth. Scooting into bed, he once again found himself groaning over the mattress, stretching his limbs and arranging himself half sprawled on his stomach in a pose very similar to Derek’s but with much more in the way of modesty. He buried his face in the pillow and breathed in a heavy sigh. It wasn’t his pillow, but it would have to do. Hopefully Scott would think to bring his…and a change of underwear or five. He slipped again into sleep, the quiet of the cabin lulling him as surely as the pops and crackles of the fire downstairs. 

Stiles awoke sweating and fighting to get free. There was a large weight on his back and a hand grasping his throat. He struggled to open his eyes, but when he did all he saw was the cabin wall staring back at him. He remembered where he was. He also remembered who he was sharing a bed with. Derek had apparently plastered himself to Stiles back sometime in the night. The blanket was thrown aside and Stiles was suddenly very grateful he’d left the sheet where it was when he felt Derek’s morning wood being gently nudged against the crack of his ass while the werewolf apparently dreamed. The hand on his neck was a little more disconcerting when it randomly clenched and unclenched without warning. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt Stiles or shut off his breathing, but it was still worrisome. 

Stiles laid there and tried to think of the most tactful way to get out of this situation. Derek was obviously dead to the world asleep and while his sleep-induced ministrations felt awfully nice to Stiles, he wasn’t sure this was how Derek would want to go about forming a mate bond. Would it still count if Derek did it in his sleep? Almost as if to flirt with the idea, Derek snuffled closer to Stiles, pressing him further into the mattress as he buried his face into Stiles hairline and neck. Stiles own morning wood seemed to feel it was time to give a throb of salutation, causing Stiles to reach between himself and the bed and give it a quick squeeze. Derek’s hand that was not on Stiles throat began to wander and briefly Stiles wondered what it was doing when he felt the sheet being gathered slowly up his thigh. He squeaked and tried to push Derek off of him, but was rewarded with a firm squeeze to his neck and a growl in his ear. Whimpering, but staying still, Stiles let Derek do what he wished. He felt the sheet gathered up to around his hips and then Derek’s cock was leaving a smear of precum on the back of his thigh. His fingers found the leg hem of Stiles boxers and he teased along the edge, slipping under barely to smooth over Stiles thigh. Stiles shut his eyes and held back the moan in his throat, knowing he should speak up soon and wake Derek up to his actions but also wanting as much fuel for the next five months of self-spanking he could get. 

Before he could bring himself to speak, however, Derek moved the leg of Stiles boxers out of way and Stiles felt Derek pressing the head of his dick into the tight space between his thighs, thrusting slow to smear more precum around to ease his way. While undeniably one of the hottest things Stiles had ever experienced by one of the hottest guys on the planet, Stiles was afraid this was bordering a little too close to rape for his taste and knew Derek would _not_ be okay with this when he awoke. 

“Uhh, Derek” he stammered, one of his own hands covering the one Derek still had splayed across his throat. Derek’s next thrust was a little harder, moving his dick further in between Stiles thighs. 

“Fuck, Stiles….” Derek moaned burying his face into Stiles shoulder as he ground his dick further into the space, the head nudging the back of Stiles balls. 

“Derek!” Stiles cried in surprise, pushing again to dislodge Derek from his back. Derek seemed to wake up, his hips stilling and his grip loosening from where it held Stiles against him. They paused for a moment, the situation going from dream to reality for one of them quite quickly. Derek practically leapt off of Stiles’ back, scrambling to a far corner of the room. Stiles turned and stared at him, wide eyed. Stiles took in the naked muscle and the angry red cock surrounded by dark curls. Stiles knew in his dreams, Derek’s embarrassment would not be present, but he felt himself blush at how far he’d let it go before stopping. Derek looked mortified, staring at the wet spot between Stiles thighs. Stiles rolled onto his back and sat up onto his elbows. He looked at Derek without anger, not wanting to make Derek feel worse about something he hadn’t been aware he was doing. 

“Hey Der, it’s okay. I know you were asleep. It’s cool, man.” He started, holding his hands up as if to show he was physically okay towards Derek. Derek just shook his head and went into the bathroom, the click of the lock sounding loudly in Stiles ears. He stared at the door for a moment until he could hear the shower turn on. He sighed and sat up, looking down at his own hard, leaking cock tenting his boxers. 

“I’m sorry, buddy. Not this morning. Let’s go pee off the front porch.” He said, addressing his cock and waiting for some of the blood to dissipate out of it before getting up and heading downstairs to make good on his promise. He didn’t think Derek would let him into the bathroom during his Shame Shower. 

After his morning pee, Stiles wandered into the kitchen to see what he could scrounge up for breakfast. He found some eggbeaters in the fridge, a jar of roasted red peppers, and some cheese. Omelets would be the fair for this morning, he decided. He waited for Derek to come down and was a little relieved when he did, dressed from head to..well, ankle. He was still walking around barefoot, but at least he had pants and a shirt on. Stiles smiled at him brightly, ignoring his embarrassed expression and rosy cheeks, while pushing his omelet towards him across the counter. 

“Breakfast is served, my friend!” he smiled and Derek smiled shyly back, grabbing his plate and taking it to the dining area along with a mug of black coffee. Stiles followed him and sat across from him at the square table. They ate in silence for a while, each staring down into their plates with unusual intensity. When Derek finished, he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and cleared his throat, looking Stiles in the face when he spoke. 

“I want to say that I’m really sorry about this morning. I, uh… well, yeah. I didn’t mean to almost rape you. That was wrong and I’m sorry.” He finished, perhaps a little lamely, blush coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Stiles stared at him for a minute. 

“Okay, so how about I counter with this… I forgive you because I knew you were asleep and that’s why I woke you. I knew you wouldn’t want it to be rapey. But, on the other hand, that was totally fucking hot and this is me giving you future consent to have sleepy intercrural sex with me. Or frottage. Or hand jobs. Or blowies. Just no sleep penetration because that is seriously a little rapey at this point in our friendship. But the rest of it… yeah. I could dig that.” Stiles ended his tirade with a sip of his coffee, secretly enjoying the wolf’s stunned expression. He didn’t expect the scowl that followed however. 

“Stiles, this is the kind of shit that leads to mating.” Derek admonished, leaning back in his chair and continuing his scowl of disapproval. Stiles adopted the unapologetic expression he’d learned from Lydia when one was challenging someone else’s preconceived notion of acceptable behavior. 

“Would that be the worst thing to ever happen to you?” he asked, distracting himself by cutting off another bite of his omelet while he waited for a response. Derek just stared at him in silence, however, until Stiles finished his omelet and coffee at which point he grabbed the dishes and took them back to the kitchen. Stiles sighed and stayed sitting at the table, staring out the windows at the morning sun across the grass. After a minute he was surprised to hear Derek approaching again and looked up to see him offering him a second cup of coffee. He accepted it and set it on the table to cool as Derek took a chair beside him instead of across. 

“Stiles, I don’t think you understand what I mean by mating.” Stiles opened his mouth to protest but Derek silenced him with a look before continuing. “It’s not just about fucking, Stiles. It’s not just about putting piece A into slot B and pumping until there’s a finished product. Mating, especially during this period, is supposed to lead to a lifelong commitment for wolves. We could just fuck someone during this time, but what once is a fuck turns into something more rather quickly. The forced isolation is a big part of this ritual because it can’t stay as just fucking for long. You have to live and work next to another individual without distraction for 24 hours a day for five months. It’s supposed to be practice run for marriage and it only ends sooner than the five months if the couple gives each other the mating bite. It’s not a bite that would turn a human, but it’s certainly a permanent symbol that they agree to be a wolf’s true mate until death. I know you’d like to fuck me, Stiles. I’ve smelled you enough around me to get the picture. I’d like to fuck you too, to be fair. I think this morning proved I was in no way adverse to the idea. But I don’t think here in this cabin is a good idea.” 

“Are you saying being mated to me really would be the worst thing to happen to you?” Stiles whispered, keeping his eyes lowered to the table top and feeling his heart beginning to crack under the pressure of imminent rejection. His crush on Derek had been absolute and long-standing and he hated to hear that Derek had known about it, maybe even reciprocated it to a point, but had never acted upon it because he found Stiles undesirable long term. 

“What? No, Stiles! You’re amazing. But you’re also barely halfway through college and I’m this grumpy old man compared to you. I got to be crazy and wild and slutty and have all these inhumanly wonderful and terrible experiences already and you’ve barely got your foot out of the door. I don’t want you to end up mated to me on a whim and then regret never getting to be free of all this.” Derek finished with a flourish of his hands and Stiles stared at him. _’The audacity…’_ he thought before opening his mouth to speak. 

“Derek, my best friend is one of the pack Alpha’s of my home town. Almost every friend I have is part of the pack. My dad knows about all this crazy supernatural stuff. I can’t ever be free, I know too much. That’s not to say I feel beholden to stay, but I just… couldn’t abandon my people on a whim. You’re part of my people. Bond or no, I wouldn’t abandon you and I wouldn’t make this kind of commitment to you because I’m feeling frisky. Not being able to be free of them means not being free of you. I don’t want the next forty years to be awkward. I don’t want another minute to be awkward… so what I’m saying is… if you want to have sleepy intercrural sex with me, that’s fine. Just no penetration while unconscious for either of us. Not until we’ve done it fully awake a few hundred times. And I’m not always going to be the bottom, sir. You can just toss that idea right out the window.” Stiles finished, sitting back and sipping his cup of coffee while he gauged Derek’s response. 

Derek laughed at the serious expression on Stiles face, his own lit with a carefree joy Stiles had never seen on him before. He thought about the fact that he was basically saying he was okay with an eventual outcome where he and Derek got werewolf married and pretended to make babies on the regular. He’d basically just told Derek he was in love with him, and perhaps he’d always been and would be more than happy to spend his life with him. 

“Okay… I will keep that under advisement. But seriously, Stiles… let’s not jump each other. Let’s take it slow. I don’t really know you outside of pack business very well, especially since you’ve been to college. Let’s just… I don’t know… hang out? See what happens? Is that okay to keep sex out of the equation for a few minutes?” Derek asked. Stiles watched him try to guage his reaction and inwardly he was huffing and stomping his feet, but he knew Derek was probably right. His impetuous nature got them into this mess, maybe he should actually listen to the guy so they could get out of it friendship intact (barring them becoming butt-buddies forever). Finally, Stiles nodded his ascent to the plan, trying not to let himself look too put out by the suggestion. Derek’s expression brightened considerably. 

“So what do you want to do today then? Scott probably won’t be here for another 7 hours or so.” Derek asked, leaning forward and grinning at Stiles kind of dopily. 

“Uh.. got any board games?” 

“I think there’s some in one of the closets. Let’s go see what they’ve got…” Derek led the way to one of the closets under the loft’s overhang. After opening the door and flipping on the light, Stiles could see that there seemed to be every sexy board game every invented. Derek looked back over his shoulder at Stiles who was grinning at him in outright glee. There was no way Stiles wasn’t taking the opportunity to torture Derek with this. 

“Grab the love dice and Truth or Dare – Sex Edition!” Stiles pushed past Derek and ducked into the closet, hands immediately closing on the large, stuffed di. He threw one in the air and caught it, reading the upturned word and grinning at Derek. “Suck…”

“Nope, no. Bad idea. Get out of the closet, Stiles” Derek rushed, grabbing the di out of Stiles hands and throwing them into the depths of the closet even as he pulled Stiles out of it. He slammed the door shut and stood in front of it to stop Stiles from going back in. Stiles was shaking and wheezing with laughter, hands on his thighs as he leaned against the back of the couch. 

“Dude, your face….” The laughs began to turn silent as he took another look at Derek’s flushed, embarrassed face and how he was trying to glare disapprovingly at Stiles. Gasping, Stiles managed to get out, “Best. Day. Ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so to explain the mildly dubious consent tag. Derek partakes in some unconscious intercrural sex with Stiles. Stiles is totally on-board, but stops Derek because he knows Derek is asleep and doesn't know fully what he's doing. Derek's pretty embarrassed about it and stops as soon as he knows what is happening. They talk it out shortly after and establish some boundaries and consent for sleepy sexy times. 
> 
> If you want to get to know me and see a whole bunch of Sterek stuff, check me out on tumblr at [ SkinSharpenedTeeth ](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com). I love new friends! :)
> 
> Chapter two will be posted by midnight central time on January 22, 2016.


	2. Chapter 2 - Your wolf says 'yes' but your head says 'no'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott brings gifts, something magical happens, and then Derek's wolf gets the best of him. "Stiles has a very bad, awful, no good, terrible day" could easily be an alternate title name if it had been from Stiles POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated early as a little gift to myself for getting 100 subscribers!!! Thanks to all those who subscribed and booked marked me! Leave kudos, subscribe, drop a comment, and/or follow me over at [tumblr. ](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com)
> 
> This has not been beta'd so all mistakes are my own. If you see one, you can always comment and I'll try to fix what I can. Thanks, y'all!

*****Derek’s POV ***  
** OCTOBER  


Despite the day’s earlier embarrassment over choosing parlor games, Derek was still feeling fairly genial after two rounds of monopoly and three rounds of Scrabble with Stiles. They’d whiled away most of the day playing board games and letting Stiles slowly slump onto the kitchen counter after being beaten bloody at all of them. Stiles was an enormously bad loser, but whenever he lost it seemed to fuel his determination to win the next time. He would sit and chew on his finger or hoodie string while staring intently at the board, mapping out each move and outcome in his mind before moving forward. It made every game longer than it probably needed to be and made Derek impatient sometimes, but watching Stiles eyes dart over the board sharp and calculating was mesmerizing. He never made the same mistake in a game twice. Derek’s own moves tended to be almost flippant in their quick decisiveness and Derek would simply deal with Stiles counter attacks as they came. He didn’t overly think about his moves and when he won despite his carelessness, Stiles fury was almost palpable.

Scott’s arrival at the cabin was well-timed that afternoon as Derek was about to witness Stiles suffer another humiliating defeat at Scrabble. His moves were beginning to be erratic and Derek vaguely worried if this would be the time that Stiles lost his shit and flipped the board. While Stiles stared at the board, Derek’s ears perked at the sound of tires crunching on gravel a mile away. He was simply flabbergasted how Stiles had stayed asleep when he drove down that driveway in the Camaro. He could hear the shocks of Scott’s car squeaking in distress as they hit the dips and bumps in the road leading up to the cabin. Standing up, he looked towards the door and then back down at Stiles who was staring at his letter rack in distress, a worry line deep between his eyebrows. 

“Hey, I think Scott is here.” Derek said quietly, turning and walking towards the cabin door. 

“You don’t know that. It could be anyone driving down your driveway.” He heard Stiles grumble meanly from where he’d stayed to continue looking at his letters. 

“You’re right, I don’t _know_. That’s why I said I think. How about you stand up and come great your alpha?” Derek looked over his shoulder at where Stiles was sitting. He had his chin resting on his knuckles and the signs of stress from defeat were hunching his shoulders. With another sweep across his letter rack and then over the board, Stiles sighed and looked away for a moment to swear. He pushed himself away from the table and stood slowly. Derek watched him try to loosen up his posture and arrange his expression into something more amiable before he started towards where Derek stood next to the open front door and passed him onto the porch. His leg bumped the table, jostling the game and he didn’t meet Derek’s eye or speak to him, but the grim line of his mouth was enough to let Derek know he needed to let him win a couple rounds if he wanted any peace tonight. Scott chose that moment to pull up to the cabin, putting the Toyota into park before jumping out of the car and running towards Stiles. 

“BRO!” he yelled, throwing open his arms and pulling Stiles into a tight squeeze. Scott noticed Stiles stiff posture and Derek watched him scent the air before letting Stiles go. He looked at Derek and Derek just rolled his eyes in response to his silent question. “Stiles, are you playing board games?” Scott asked, trying to catch Stiles’ eyes. Stiles face flushed slightly with embarrassment as he nodded silently. Scott sighed and he held Stiles arms to keep him from fleeing. “Bro, why do you do that to yourself? You know you’re shit at board games. And you get so _angry_ when you lose, too. I bet you didn’t even warn Derek what he was getting in to and now you’re already at a level 4 sulk? How many times have you lost?” 

Derek tried not to think about how adorable Stiles looked when he tried to squirm his way out of Scott’s grip. His face was flushed red with embarrassment and shame at getting called out. It was seventy percent adorable and thirty percent pitiable. He wished Scott would just let him run from him, but he could smell an old argument between the two on the subject so he stayed where he was on the porch just watching. Stiles eyes briefly found his over his shoulder, looking at him pleading for a moment, before turning back to Scott. Even Derek had trouble hearing what Stiles said next. 

“All of them.” 

“Oh, Stiles. You know better. If you lose twice, you stop. Period.” Stiles nodded and sniffed, eyes not lifting from Scott’s feet. Scott let his arms drop and he let the moment rest between them. Derek couldn’t stand the awkwardness, even as someone not intimately connected with it. 

“Hey Scott, did you bring stuff?” Derek asked, stepping down off the porch. It seemed the house was willing to give them a little range in the yard today. He could work with that. Scott’s head snapped up in his direction as he approached and he nodded, grinning again. 

“Yeah man, I’m Santa Claus this Halloween. I brought gifts!” He finished with a flourish before turning to pop the trunk of his car. Derek’s opened his mouth to laugh when a foreign warmth spread through his body like a liquefied hug. His eyes snapped to Stiles who had apparently felt it also, as his previously sulky expression had been replaced with one of confusion and wonder. 

“What was _that_ , Derek?” Stiles asked, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Derek searched his memory banks for the old stories as Scott’s head popped around the trunk lid to look between them. 

“Everything all right, you guys?” he asked, hefting the first couple bags of what looked like groceries into his arms. Derek nodded and met Stiles eyes, silently conveying that they would talk about it later. Stiles eyes hardened a little bit at being denied the answer to his question immediately, but Derek ignored him in favor of stalking forward to grab Stiles pillow and duffle bag full of clothes. The items smelled strongly of Stiles and he was taken aback momentarily when he felt his eyes flash at the concentrated scent that was thrown in his face as he hugged Stiles pillow against his side so he could have a hand free for the last bag in the trunk.

“Need me to get anything, Der?” Stiles called from the front of the car. Derek shook his head to clear it and felt his eyes bleed back to normal. _’Now that was interesting…’_ Derek thought as he lifted his hand while still holding the bags and pillow to slam the trunk closed. 

“No thanks, Stiles. I got it.” He smiled at Stiles and hefted the load more firmly in his grip.

Stiles looked at him over the car hood and shrugged. He turned and walked towards the house where Scott was waiting patiently by the door. Stiles looked at him strangely where he stood. 

“Just going to stand there, bro?”, Stiles asked, motioning towards the big open doorway. 

“Uh, I think you have to invite me in?” Scott said, tapping his foot towards the threshold. His foot bounced back both times from what looked like thin air. Scott gave Stiles a pointed look, who in turn looked towards Derek in question. Derek just shrugged, walked onto the porch himself and passed between Stiles and Scott and into the house. 

“Why don’t you come in, Scott, and set your gifts down?” Derek called over his shoulder after he’d deposited his load from the car onto the stairs. Scott looked at Stiles before swinging his foot into the threshold again and looked surprised when it allowed it past. Not wanting to look a gift horse – or in this case, _house_ , in the mouth, Scott passed under the doorway and followed Derek into the kitchen area. 

“Whoa, Derek. This place is awesome! I didn’t know you had a house up here!” Scott exclaimed, setting down his bags onto the kitchen counter and then abandoning them to turn in wonder in the middle of the living area. Before Derek could answer, Stiles piped up from behind him. 

“Yeah, according to Derek, this is the pack’s official baby-making cabin.” Derek heard him snicker as Scott stopped turning and stared at Derek in alarm. Rolling his eyes and huffing, Derek took a step towards Scott before starting. 

“This cabin belonged to my ancestors. It belongs to the Hale pack or partially to any pack a Hale is a part of. It’s got magic attached to it, obviously, like this magic binding Stiles and I here until the Mating Moon in February. But it’s also been used to help life mates work out relationship problems, it has been used for fertility rituals--“ 

“Fancy term for baby-making” he heard Stiles crack obnoxiously behind him. 

“ and it’s been used when two packs need to join and they need a neutral territory to work out their disputes and iron out equalities. It’s not one of a kind to my family, but it is a rare establishment. Our pack is lucky to have one and when we stay stabilized for longer, other packs will eventually approach us to use it.” 

Scott, to his credit, had listened with rapt attention and the seriousness expected of one who is a bitten alpha of a werewolf pack. This was part of the culture he was thrust in to instead of born in to and he needed to understand it so he could honor it. Stiles, being human, wanted to make a joke of something he didn’t understand or connect to. Derek knew this, but it didn’t make the urge to snap at him and make him submit like he would a werewolf beta any less alluring. Scott, however, knew how to temper his friend and snapped towards Stiles. 

“Stiles, quit. This is important for me.” Stiles stopped his guffawing immediately and mumbled an apology. 

Derek was constantly amazed at how Scott could handle Stiles. He supposed their close bond allowed them freedoms they would never have with others. He never wanted to cow Stiles with just a look or a work, but he hoped they’d someday respect each other enough to let go of their egos and listen to what the other needed. 

“Do those kind of requests come up often?” Scott asked, jerking Derek’s attention back to the present. 

“Not for this particular ritual. It’s pretty hard to get 6 months off of work nowadays just to decide if you want to get hitched. No one really has that kind of time off of reality without your life falling apart, but you might get requests to use it as a meeting place or for fertility rituals or something.” 

“Ah, okay.” Scott seemed to think pretty hard about it, cataloguing it into his own store of werewolf culture. “You’ll help me though when it comes up, right?” “Of course, man, I won’t let you flail.” Derek clapped a hand on Scott’s shoulder and smiled at him. Scott was a good alpha and Derek was glad to be in a pack with him. Despite their rocky start, they’d managed to come to a middle ground where they could cooperate for the good of the pack. After a couple years, it was simply second nature to defer to each other. 

Stiles was now rustling around the kitchen behind him, looking through bags and unloading things into the refrigerator. Derek could see his reflection in one of the windows across the room behind Scott. He looked a little sullen, but pushing past it as he busied himself with the chore of sorting and putting away food items. Turning his attention back to Scott, Derek waved him towards the screened in back deck. Scott headed that direction and he followed, sliding the glass door shut behind him. 

“I’m sorry about Stiles, man. He gets so competitive about board games and then he gets mad and embarrassed about losing. It’s worse because it’s you and your opinion of him means the world to him. He just… his default setting is jackass. It’s like he thinks your opinion can’t get any worse so he just lives up to what he thinks your expectation of him is.” Scott explained, as he stood next to Derek on the porch. Derek nodded and looked out into the clearing behind the house where some deer had begun to wander out in search of food. 

“It’s… it’s okay. It’s been a long day. I know he’s acting out right now. It’s annoying, but…whatever. I can handle it.” Derek replied, trying to roll off his feelings of confusion about why his opinion mattered so much. He knew Stiles physically wanted him, but he hadn’t even gotten the impression that there was anything deeper than lust between the two of them. 

“Well, it’s not, but it’s not a habit he’s likely the change overnight, either. He’s always been a sore loser and it always makes him that more tenacious at getting what he wants. It’s admirable and terrifying at the best of times.” Derek nodded, not knowing how to respond. “Look man, I’m just saying, this is part of it. If you’re going to be stuck with him for five months solid, you better learn how to soothe his ego fast. If you don’t nip it in the bud he can become insufferable.” 

“It’s just a couple of months, Scott. After that, he can go back to college and finish up his degree and decide what he wants to do with his life. He won’t have to see me except at pack meetings. This is just about sex for him, and I get that, but this magic is powerful and it’s been going strong for at least a hundred years. I’ve got to be careful. I don’t want to make a mistake and tie him to me when he was just looking for a quickie.” 

“Derek.” Scott stepped in front of him at that, forcing him to keep eye contact. “Stiles has _never_ kept a crush on anyone for this long that he just wanted to have sex with. He doesn’t do that kind of lust. Don’t discredit him because he’s been willing to let this thing between you two stay shallow for so long.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Derek gritted out, looking away from their locked gaze to watch the deer again. His own feelings for Stiles were conflicted. He’d always felt a physical attractionto him, but he’d really never let himself explore much past that. 

“We’ll see.” Scott finished, his attention looking over Derek’s shoulder towards the living room. A second later, Derek heard the snick sound of the sliding door and the smell of cooking meat and Stiles wafted to him. He breathed deeply, trying not to react to the smells in front of Scott. Scott’s eyes darted to him briefly, a silent recognition that Derek hadn’t hid anything from him. 

“Hey guys” Stiles was hanging through the doorway, his eyes flitting between them, “dinner is almost ready. I put on some of the steaks Derek had in the freezer and we’ve got fried potatoes and salad.” 

“Thanks man, we’ll be right in.” Scott replied, smiling at his best friend and stepping beside Derek. Derek looked over his shoulder and caught Stiles’ eyes briefly before giving him a small smile and nodding. Stiles looked between them once more and then shook his head in exasperation before backing out of the doorway and turning towards the kitchen. He didn’t shut the door, but he did leave them to themselves for a moment longer. Scott leaned closer to Derek and said in a low voice, “If you hurt him, I will kill you. But if you mate him, I’ll throw you a fucking parade.” 

\------ 

Once Scott had begun his long drive home after being filled to the brim with steak and potatoes, Derek watched Stiles trudge slowly upstairs, dragging his duffle bag behind him, pillow firmly trapped between his arm and torso. There was one bag left on the stairs from the car and Derek went to grab it so he could follow Stiles up to the bedroom. Dinner had normalized things for a while, Stiles laughing and joking with him and Scott throughout, but as soon as the sound of Scott’s car gave way to silence, Stiles sullen attitude had seemed to reappear. 

When Derek entered the bedroom he found Stiles sitting on the side of the bed thumbing through what looked like Erica’s iPod. He couldn’t think of anyone else who would have a black and pink bejeweled iPod except maybe Lydia, and the object didn’t strike him as something Lydia would think to send. Erica wouldn’t let go of her iPod lightly either, however, and to see it in Stiles hand was such a shocking sight that he stopped in the doorway and stared until Stiles lifted his head and called a dulcet “Oh, hello”. 

“Is that Erica’s iPod?” Derek asked, setting the bag down at the foot of the bed as he sat close to Stiles so he could look over his shoulder. Erica was the only person he’d ever met to have a 128 Gb iPod who had managed to fill it with nothing but music.

“Yeah, man.” Stiles answered, his thumb slowly scrolling through the artist list. “She has got _everything_ on here. This is fucking insane.” 

“Hey, why don’t you see if your favorite band is on there and then play them for me.” Derek suggested, rummaging through the sack and producing a bluetooth speaker he knew Erica would include. No reason to give up the iPod if she wasn’t sure they’d be able to use it. 

“No way, man, that’s impossible.” Stiles laughed, not turning to Derek but still scrolling, eyes glued to the screen. Derek stopped looking for the power button on the speaker and looked at him. 

“Why is that?” he asked curiously. He knew Stiles loved music because he’d seen him sing and dance enough times at pack meetings to fill a lifetime of memories. He also may have developed a mild obsession with Stiles hips when hiphop dance tunes played. 

“Dude, I suffer from ADHD. My favorites change all the time. I can play you the band I want to listen to the most right now if you want.” Stiles offered, looking at Derek for approval. 

“Uh… okay. That sounds fair. But while we listen to them, think of about five artists or albums or whatever that you could listen to any time anywhere and still love.” 

“Only if you do the same. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard you listen to music though so this will be super interesting.” Stiles grabbed the charging cable for the iPod and set it into the wall alongside the charging cable for the speaker. 

“Well, I never have time to pick appropriate theme music for our skirmishes so…” Derek shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and continued to peek through the bag. 

“Was that a joke? Ha! My sourwolf made a joke!” Stiles arm slapped his in jest as he feigned a look of shock. 

“I make jokes all the time!” Derek did. No one else laughed, but he _did_ make jokes. 

“Yeah, but only you think they’re funny usually. That one was pretty good though. Sarcasm, I like it.” Stiles waggled his eyebrows as he set the speaker upon the bedside table closest to him and then pressed play on the iPod. Derek shook his head and laughed as the music filled the air. It had a toe-tapping rhythm that his feet fell into as he rummaged more through the sack, slowly setting items out that they’d been given. 

“Oh dear god, this was from Erica, too.” Derek laughed, withdrawing a large tub from the bottom of the bag. The longer he looked at it, the harder he laughed and Stiles was staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern at this reaction to the mystery tub. 

“Well, let me see what it is, Derek. You’re hogging all the laughter to yourself.” Stiles chided, scooting closer to where Derek was still chuckling. Stiles took the tub from Derek’s hands and his eyes scanned over the label. Derek watched him mouth the words ‘boy butter’ in complete confusion only once before it became too much and a fresh set of giggles washed over him. He lay back onto the mattress and covered his mouth with his hands as the laughter poured out of him. It was such a completely Erica-styled gift and Stiles blush which was infusing his face bright red as he too began to giggle over gift made it even better. 

“Oh my God, Derek, is this what I think it is?” Stiles asked, tone still slightly awed even as he continued giggling in spurts. 

“If you think it is high quality, water based cream lubricant that is marketed to look like a tub of butter, then yes, it is exactly what you think it is.” Derek replied, hefting the tub away from Stiles and putting it on the bed behind them. He paused to wipe the tears of mirth from his eyes and saw that Stiles was still staring in curiosity at the tub. “Go ahead and open it, Stiles. It’s really not a bad lube at all. I even might go so far as to say it’s kind of expensive. But go ahead, dip a finger in.” Derek shoved Stiles’ thigh with his own in encouragement. He left it where it lay pressed slightly in contact still with Stiles as he lifted himself onto his elbows to watch Stiles open the tub of lubricant.

“What? I wasn’t – well, if you insist” Stiles flustered, quickly grabbing up the tub and opening it. He ran his fingers over the surface gently and then rubbed them together to test to glide. “Oh man, that is really good! Where was this stuff when I was in high school? Or heck, college?” 

“Had much occasion to need lubricant of this caliber?” Derek asked, only partly teasing, smiling and leering at Stiles in jest. Stiles looked at him from the side of eye and smirked. 

“Some.” He answered, leaving it at that. Derek started at the pang of jealousy that washed through him. He knew Stiles wasn’t a virgin. He knew Stiles was into women and men, just like he was. He knew that Stiles had been in college and therefore had probably done lots of explicit things with people Derek would never meet. His brain knew this. His wolf knew it too… and hated it. 

“Well, now you know what to buy for the next time the opportunity presents itself.” Derek kept his smile plastered on, but he knew it had turned into a near grimace by the confusion on Stiles face. He grabbed the tub and stalked towards the bathroom to find a place to store it. He felt himself being petulant and he wanted to quit, but he just couldn’t. The idea of someone else getting Stiles intimate time and attention was maddening to him. 

He took a moment after setting the tub on the side of the vanity and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bleeding just the barest hint of red and he could feel his canines itching. He wanted to go into the bedroom and mark Stiles. He wanted to rub himself off onto Stiles’ skin so the next person who thought about bedding him would smell his claim and back off. He wanted to mark him so no one could possible get the idea he wasn’t already spoken for. The longer he stood there and thought about it, the more he wanted it. It was with a sick realization that he found himself hard and straining the confines of his jeans at the thought of biting marks high onto Stiles collar and rubbing his warm, spent cock through a pool of their combined spunk on Stiles’ stomach. 

Shaking himself out of his daydreams, he thought about Stiles in the other room; Stiles who had no idea that Derek was hard and wanting in the bathroom. He’d left the door open and everything as he’d stalked in here just to put the lube away. He needed to calm down. He needed to get control of his wolf who was clawing at the inside of his chest for the chance to bury his snout in between Stiles’ thighs. Derek resisted, trying to reason with instinct. He did _not_ need to attack Stiles just because he’d had someone hands all over him. 

“Hey Derek, look at this! I found a cock ring stuffed in the outside pocket of my duffle! Pretty sure it’s another gift from Erica, but look it’s got --” Stiles said as he walked into the bathroom and flooded Derek nose with a fresh cloud of his scent, blemished with the smell of Scott from earlier. Derek turned and grabbed the front of Stiles shirt, backing him roughing into the bathroom wall. Stiles looked up at him in surprise, cock ring falling from his hands as his mouth fell open in a perfect ‘o’. Without giving an explanation, Derek lunged forward and kissed him hungrily, tongue snaking out to taste Stiles’ while the boy was still pliant in surprise. The shock lasted only a moment longer before Stiles started to respond, eager little hums trickling up his throat and into Derek’s savage kisses. Derek broke the kiss as Stiles’ hands found his waist, resting the tips of his fingers within the waistband of Derek’s jeans. Derek quickly traced the tip of his nose over Stiles’ jawline and then dove into the crook of Stiles’ neck, his tongue lapping at the tendons and muscles where he smelled strongest to Derek right then. A groan rumbled against Derek’s tongue through the skin of Stiles’ throat and Derek gently set his teeth against the flesh as if testing it. 

“Can I mark you, Stiles? Please let me…” he begged into the skin, his body starting to curl forward so his cock could feel the press of their bodies together even as he asked for permission. His question made Stiles gasp as his body rocked to meet Derek’s, a hand coming up to cup the back of Derek’s head and press him more firmly into the warm flesh he wanted to bruise beneath his mouth. 

“What happened to not jumping each other? Was that conversation this morning?” Stiles teasing tone was betrayed by his body as he rocked his hips again more insistently, the fingers he’d left in Derek’s waistband pulling Derek’s hips closer while he teased Derek with words. Derek didn’t feel teased however. He felt like an ice bucket had been dumped on him. He had said that. Why _was_ he jumping Stiles? He knew better. He _knew_ better. He had just been talking himself down from doing this very thing. _What was going on with him?_

His body lurched back off of Stiles’ and he stared at him in horror. This was the second time today he was trying to push himself sexually onto Stiles and this after he’d decided that he was going to resist the urge to mate him while in the cabin. He removed his hands form the wall around Stiles head and forced himself to take another step back and away. Derek breathed in deep, steadying breaths through his nose and held his trembling hands to his side as he fought for control over himself. The instinctive urge to press his mouth into Stiles’ pulse points was still thrumming through his body, the wolf inside him whining and snarling in turn at Derek’s lack of follow through. 

“Dude, that wasn’t a rejection! Oh my god, Derek, yes. Here’s my consent. Please mark me, please!” Stiles stepped forward and pressed himself back against Derek. One hand found his hip again while the other snaked up his chest to hold the back of his neck in an attempt to pull him forward, Stiles’ eyes wide and beseeching. Derek jerked his head away and stared at Stiles, his eyes surely bright red as his body shook against the urge to scent, the urge to leave little leopard spot bruises all over his exposed skin. Derek let his eyes travel all over Stiles face. His lips were red and swollen from the kissing and his neck was flushed with stubble burn from Derek’s attentions earlier. Derek’s eyes sought every mark he’d already put on Stiles and his wolf cried out for something that would last longer than just an hour or a few minutes. Derek took three steps back that time and leaned against the side of the tub, gripping the side to steady himself. 

“No,I said… I said we needed to take it slow. I want to take it slow.” Derek repeated slowly, his eyes meeting Stiles on the last sentence. Stiles mouth drew up in a purse of dissatisfaction and his hands balled into fists. 

“That’s _fine_ , Derek, when you don’t instigate it!” he all but yelled. “What the hell was that then, if you want to take it slow? Because that was _not_ slow. That was burning hot fucking fast and I was perfectly fucking okay with it. What. The. Fuck, Man?!” 

Derek drew in another deep breath and tried to clear his head. 

“When you were teasing me about having other occasions you might have needed lube it… it set off my wolf. That side of me… it’s more primal and wants to claim it’s territory, fuck it’s mate, and kill it’s enemies. I…felt myself wanting to mark you in that way. It was a very, very strong urge. I’m sorry. I was out of control.” 

“Since when have you recognized me as a potential mate, Derek?” 

“Since yesterday afternoon. The magic in this place is very strong, Stiles. We entered it under a Hunter’s Moon and we’ll leave it after the Mating Moon. Part of this magic is to bring out the parts of ourselves we’ve been hiding from our potential mates so there can be a true test of compatibility.” 

“So what did the magic bring out just then? That you’ve been hiding that you want to mate me?” 

“It’s more than that. It… it brought out my possessive side. I wanted to put obvious claiming marks on you. I wanted you to have physical evidence that you were mine. I’m…kind of an asshole. I get jealous and possessive over people and part of that is the wolf, but most of that is me. I try not to show it cause I don’t really like when I act like that.” 

Derek looked up sheepishly as he finished, taking in the speculation in Stiles’ eyes. He wasn’t running, so Derek would take that as a win, and he looked infinitely less angry than he had a couple minutes ago, but he looked far from mollified. “But Derek, I told you that you could mark me. I consented. I mean, I know I fucked it up by trying to make a joke at the wrong fucking time, but I mean… you still can, if you want. I’d bear your mark. It’s not like there’s anyone to challenge you over it anyway, but if it would make you feel better, I’d totally let you set your teeth in me a little or rub yourself all over me. Whatever you think would work.” 

A pleased growl came out of Derek which shocked them both. Stiles grinned as he tilted his head back as he simultaneously pulled the collar of his shirt out of the way. He was baring his neck and Derek knew his eyes were glowing bright red again as he stared at the exact spot he wanted to sink his teeth in to. His breath started to come out in pants as he gripped the side of the tub in effort to keep himself still. His wolf was salivating at such a blatant show of submission and invitation. It made it a hardship to tear his eyes away from the smooth, unblemished skin of Stiles neck, but he still managed to turn his head and squeeze shut his eyes shut to stop staring. He knew he was in half-shift and he needed to get control over himself before he advanced on Stiles to finish what he’d begun. The scent of his saliva on Stiles mouth and neck wasn’t enough to appease the animal in him. It wanted more; it wanted something that couldn’t be easily washed away. 

“Derek, come on, you can mark me--“ He heard Stiles shuffle a step closer and he snapped. 

“NO, Stiles!” Derek yelled, pushing himself off of the tub and towards the door. Stiles grabbed his arm and he let himself be spun to face him. 

“Derek, YES. Look, how about..” Stiles hesitated, looking lost for a moment as he worked something out in his head. Derek had begun to pull away again when he felt Stiles once slack hand grip his arm firmly. “Let’s trade then. Look, you’re not the only person who has felt irrationally jealous over other people getting to touch the things you want.” 

“What are you saying, Stiles?” 

“I’m saying that… if the neck is too much of a big deal then fine, there’s 90% of the body left to stamp your mark on. But, if you mark me then I get to mark you too.” 

“Stiles, any physical mark you put on me will be gone in minutes…” Derek snapped, agitated at his suggestion.

“That’s fine. We can scent mark if you want. I mean, that would be pretty easy for us to renew if it started to fade. I mean, we’ve got five months to solidify a mating bond and if we’re just going to see the annoying parts of each other then we should get at least some perks from the program like rubbing off on one another. The idea of your hands or mouth on me is not a displeasing trade for putting up with your bipolar attitude is all I’m saying.” Stiles smiled and Derek felt anger answer it. He rolled his eyes. 

“No, Stiles. You aren’t taking it seriously” Derek could feel his grumpy cat glare morphing his features full force. His wolf was unhappy, but staying quiet. Derek was in full control again. 

“NO Derek, you aren’t taking me seriously! Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Stiles shouted. His hands fisted into Derek’s shirt as he got into his face. Derek was shocked that he was being so physical, it usually wasn’t his mode of confrontation. 

“I am standing here begging for you to mark me. I’m standing here begging for you to recognize me as your potential mate…which I did this morning, also. Which, really, I’ve been silently doing for five fucking years because I am fucking crazy about you, Derek, and all I want is for you to give us or me or we a fucking chance. Stop thinking I don’t know what I’m saying just because you refuse to recognize me as an adult. Your wolf obviously realized I’m mate-able, so what’s your fucking problem?” 

Stiles’ hands suddenly released his shirt. The look on his face was a mixture of fury, hurt, and embarrassment. Derek tried to open his mouth to apologize, but as soon as he drew breath Stiles rounded on his heel and stalked downstairs. Derek stood still and listened, tracking Stiles movements through the house. He was grabbing a blanket and with the whisper of the screen door opening and closing, Derek knew he was out on the porch. He had fucked up again and to the jangly rhythm of brit-pop no less. He sighed and sat himself down on the edge of the bed, grabbing up the iPod and turning it off. 

Laying back, he felt his body overcome with fatigue even as his mind began to think over what Stiles had said. Was he still qualifying every one of Stiles actions and suggestions as that of a horny adolescent? When was the last time he’d really considered anything Stiles had said? When was the last time he’d really looked at the person Stiles had become? Beacon Hills had aged all of the teens who had been thrown sometimes bodily into the world of the supernatural. In a lot of ways, they’d all lost their childhood a couple years too early. Stiles, however… Stiles had grown up with a loss similar to Derek’s own. Stiles had always been the one to take care of everyone else, a rare paternal figure to the pack even as he was trying to grow up himself. College had given him independence from the pack dynamic and the needs of everyone to lean on him constantly. That had been a role that Derek and Scott had fully stepped in to together which Stiles had previously held by himself. Stiles had been able to let loose and be irresponsible in college which had brought levity back into his spirit after the heaviness of constant fighting and loss which came with taking care of Beacon Hills. He seemed happier and in some ways younger than he did even when he was in high school. This summer had been filled with his laughter and pranks as he bonded everyone together with him again to make up for his absence. Derek had watched him weave into everyone’s hearts over again while he stayed on the outskirts, dodging Stiles attempts to do the same to him. 

Derek’s eyes drifted shut as he thought about what he would have found if he would have trusted Stiles intentions instead of being wary. He wonders if they would’ve made the decision to come here together instead of fate pushing them together into an inescapable situation. His breathing evened out as he remembered how Stiles mouth had already tasted like it was already his and how the skin of his neck had stood out in sharp relief from the dark t-shirt he was wearing. He could smell Stiles on his skin as he drifted to sleep, his tongue snaking out to see if any traces were left on his lips from Stiles’. 

\---- 

The next morning found Derek alone in bed and still clothed from the night before. Stiles’ side hadn’t been disturbed, but his pillow was absent from the bedroom. Derek sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, as he stared at the sky through the sky light looking for answers. If the dark overcast of clouds were anything to go by, today was going to be worse than yesterday. He surely hoped that was his pessimist side speaking prematurely and not a prophecy. 

Sitting up, he looked over the railing he saw that Stiles had slept on the couch in front of the fire, throw blankets thrown on top of him and his pillow under his head. Derek thought he looked a little uncomfortable, but knew better than to try and convince him back upstairs so soon. Stiles would, in his own time, come back upstairs or he wouldn’t. Derek didn’t feel like he had any control over the matter at this point. What he could control, however, was the almost dead fire in front of Stiles in the fireplace and with a goal in mind; he got up and headed towards the woodpile to bring in this morning’s fuel. 

Stiles jumped awake as he piled wood into the crib near the fireplace, swearing under his breath. He didn’t turn and acknowledge him, letting him get a moment to find his bearings. When he heard Stiles clear his voice, he looked over his shoulder at him. Stiles was beautiful even sleep mussed, his usually artfully bedraggled hair matted and fluffed awkwardly with sleep and his eyes squinted against the overcast glare coming through the windows. His expression towards Derek did not seem quite as dreamy as Derek’s musings over the state of his morning glory. Stiles’ expression more closely resembled the distant roll of thunder coming gently from the northwest. 

“So I did some research while you were asleep” Stiles began, sitting up and pulling his pillow into his lap. “The warm feeling we felt yesterday? As far as I can tell, it’s a blessing towards our bond strengthening. Whenever the pack gives us gifts while we’re here, it will fuel the magic to make our official claim on one another stronger. It might… it might’ve been part of what precipitated your need to mark me last night and from what I can tell those “needs” might get worse as the more blessings or gifts are brought to us.” 

Stiles didn’t look particularly pleased with this revelation. Derek felt downright uneasy. “So the house is forcing us to want to be together?” Derek asked, fear and shame growing in his stomach at the thought that the way he’d acted may not have been just a manifestation of his possessiveness, but also a ploy by the house to speed things along. What if he’d done it and Stiles had changed his mind? What is Stiles really didn’t even want a pre-emptive marking and the house was making him want things he wouldn’t normally seek out? 

“What?” Stiles looked confused and flustered for a moment before continuing. “No, no, no. At least, I don’t think so, anyway. Magic like this is always about subduing or magnifying things that are already there, especially when it comes to people’s emotions. It can’t create something out of nothing, so to speak. Like, if I weren’t attracted to you physically, it couldn’t make me gay for you and vice versa just because we’re in this situation together. Plus, the magic on this cabin, from what you have told me, seems ultimately geared towards lasting partnership and bond-building. It doesn’t seem like it would be intentionally malicious enough to force two people together who won’t work in the real world.” 

“Oh…. How late were you up looking at all this?” Derek asked, studiously avoiding thinking over the information Stiles had provided him until later and instead, wiping his hands on his jeans to brush wood dust off his hands while he sat on the floor by the fireplace facing Stiles. 

“Far too late to be having this conversation this early. I think I’m going to head upstairs and bogart the bed until lunchtime.” Stiles stood and gathered his pillow, keeping one of throw blankets wrapped around his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. That sounds good. Have at it.” Derek said, watching Stiles’ retreating form head towards the stairs for a minute before grabbing one of the forgotten throws on the couch to start refolding it.

“Oh and Derek?” Derek’s head popped up at the sound of his name. Stiles was stalled at the stairs, one foot on the lowest step. He waited in silence for Stiles to go on, pausing his movements with the blanket to show that Stiles had his full attention. Stiles, for his part, seemed to be struggling. He was biting his lips and his eyebrows were drawn together in worry and indecision. 

“I..uh… I don’t think we should sleep in the same bed together at the same time. And I’d like to withdraw my consent for you to mark me in any way. I think until we make a decision one way or the other as to how this is going to go that we should keep our distance physically. I don’t want you to start anything you can’t finish again so I suggest you and your wolf have a long conversation about what you want. If you two decide that’s me, then you and I can talk, but this hot/cold shit is stopping. I’m not weak, but you made me feel pretty fucking flimsy yesterday.” 

With that last barb, he turned and continued walking upstairs leaving Derek to his thoughts. Derek listened to him walk upstairs and heard the bedsprings squeak minutely at the force in which he threw himself onto the mattress. Once Stiles seemed to have settled, Derek sat down on the couch, holding his head in his hands and pressing the blanket against his face to smother his breathing. Unfortunately, it was saturated with the scent of Stiles sleep sweat which clung to the inside of Derek’s nose in a way that he knew would stick for a while. His wolf rumbled unhappily in his chest, wishing to go comfort Stiles and scent mark him. He had deserved that even if he didn’t think that their sleeping proximity would make one iota of a difference when it came to his hormonal whims. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles had a pretty shitty day, no? Next chapter won't be as bad. I'm going to update this story January 22nd, 2016 by midnight central times. 
> 
> Three teasers for the next chapter: more gifts, fire, bonding. 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for updates about updates or just for general sterek-y goodness. [I'm here all the time ](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com)


	3. This Fire is Out of Contol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek tries to do something nice and it fails miserable... however, it does get them sleeping in the same bed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real notes for this chapter. Little bit of PTSD in this chapter experienced by Derek which might be a trigger to some folks but other than it's a cute little chapter. Feel free to tell me if you find any mistakes, this has no beta but me. Enjoy it guys!

*****Stiles’ POV*****  
November>

Thirteen days after his self-appointed exile from the bed of his dreams, Stiles was seriously considering homicide. Why exactly was he sleeping on the couch again? He had done nothing wrong and Derek could heal from the aches and pains of a lumpy couch in minutes, whereas poor Stiles had a crick in his neck and a kink in his back that he couldn’t get worked out. He was beginning to worry the kinks were permanent as he huffed and sat up, immediately swinging his legs over the side of the couch to sit. His mood wasn’t improving much either since their fight. The only time he got to be alone was when he was in the shower and it was becoming increasingly frequent that he took two showers a day. One actual shower where he soaped up and got clean and then another where he sat in the bathtub and read porn on his phone…which was not helping his mood one bit since he was so paranoid about Derek hearing him jack off that he hadn’t touched himself once. He’d woken up twice with his hands down his pants, grinding into the couch, as another Derek-featured sex dream rolled through his brain. Both times he’d reacted like a snake had bitten him, jolting his hand out of his pants and falling off the couch. Derek’s inquisitive, bedraggled face had popped over the loft railing to stare down at him. Stiles flipped him off and picked himself off the ground, laying back on the sofa and waiting for his erection to completely fade before seeking more sleep. The tension in his body from the unwanted edging was making him mean, he could tell. He just wanted to sleep in the nice bed upstairs and blow his load in peace. Apparently, that was too much for him to ask for. 

Since sex was off the table, even the self-inflicted kind, Stiles mind turned to finding other ways to comfort himself. He read, drank hot cocoa, and snuggled under all the blankets. He texted his college friends and the pack constantly, since Derek and he were still only sharing minimal conversation. The two weeks after Derek’s double rejection had seen only terse, unhappy conversation from Stiles and kicked-puppy looks from Derek. They’d shared meals and occasionally played a game of spades, but their interaction was stunted. Stiles missed flirting and he missed being able to fuck with Derek in a friendly way. If something was said as innuendo now, however, the conversations turned bitter and resentful. It was going to be a very long four months if they kept this up the entire time. 

“Hey Stiles” Derek called, walking into the living room holding his phone in front of him. He was damp from his shower, wearing only a pair of loose sweat pants. Stiles would like to believe that he had become used to the sight of Derek in various stages of undress, but honestly, every time Derek took him unawares with it the breath stole from his chest and he had to reboot his brain. It didn’t help that Derek was still instituting his one man ban on underwear and Stiles could just see the outline of his flaccid cock through the sweatpants material. He might be mad at him, but there were certain parts of his brain that felt like he could easily be persuaded to take out his aggression on Derek’s naked body for many, many sweat filled hours. 

“Isaac and Allison are going to be popping up tomorrow with supplies, have any special requests?” Stiles brain jolted out of his hate sex daydream, as his eyes snapped guiltily from Derek’s crotch and met his eyes which were regarding him cooly. 

“A chiropractor?” Stiles joked, twisting from side to side in an attempt to get his back to pop. 

“You chose the sofa. There’s still half a bed up there with your name on it anytime you choose to claim it.” Derek responded heartlessly, not rising to the bait. Peevishness rose in Stiles brain at the suggestion. 

“Wouldn’t want you to claim me in your sleep and wake up regretting your life choices, now would I? No, this couch is perfectly comfortable. I think I prefer it to the bed, actually. Feels safer down here.” Stiles knew it was a low blow, knew he was being petulant and unrelenting, but Derek had not apologized and was not acting contrite past the longing looks he gave Stiles when he didn’t think Stiles was looking. Well, Stiles was and that did _not_ make the situation any better. 

“Good, I’m glad you feel safe. I would hate for you to feel pressured to sleep down here for fear of me. Maybe I should wear a bell around my neck too so you can always hear me coming.” Derek could almost out-sarcasm Stiles. It used to be one of the things he valued about Derek, his extraordinarily dry wit, but since it had been used to throw Stiles words back in his teeth, well… it was now on his long list of things Derek Hale could shove up his perfectly sculpted ass. 

“I don’t think anyone is coming in this house so really there’s no need to put yourself out.” Stiles countered, crossing his arms and leaning back into the couch. 

“I would think with the two showers a day, you’re actually coming twice as often as I am.” Derek smirked, leaning against the fire place wall and giving Stiles a pointed look at his own groin. Stiles tugged the blanket over his lap a little more securely before continuing, blush coloring his cheeks. 

“You know what? Go fuck yourself, Derek Hale” Stiles blustered. Derek’s grin only grew. 

“Just did.” He waited a beat, giving Stiles ample opportunity to imagine it before he continued. “Now, back to the point. Isaac and Allison. Do you want them to bring anything special?” 

“Cookie dough. Chocolate chip. Tons of it.” Stiles sneered, standing up. He grabbed his phone and stalked past Derek and out to the patio. He did not need this kind of stress in his life. He was a grown fucking adult stuck in a shitty magical prison with a snarky wet dream. He should be at college finishing up his degree or at home, looking for jobs, or in a bar somewhere picking up someone who was actually sure whether or not they wanted to touch his penis and have theirs touched in return. This situation was ridiculous. 

It was cold and raining outside, the chill seeping into Stiles almost immediately as he huddled on the outdoor couch waiting for his temper to calm down. He’d be damned if he’d go back inside, tail tucked between his legs, just to get a blanket. As his breathing calmed, he felt a little ache settle into his heart. Even though he was still mad, lewd and flirty Derek made him miss their old banter even more. What was his problem? Why was Stiles not good enough? Sniffing, he stared out at the rain, trying to clear his brain before he made himself cry. 

\---

Allison and Isaac’s visit came and went the next day without a hitch. The same warm, liquid sensation that had occurred when Scott brought Derek and him things happened with Allison and Isaac. Stiles felt like it was a mockery to feel so gooey and loved when the reality was that Derek and Stiles could seemingly hardly be bothered with one another. Sighing, Stiles followed in the group, daring his brain to savor the feeling of Derek’s hand on his lower back as he ushered everyone in out of the November rain and inside the warm cabin. 

Isaac and Allison gave the now expected praise of how nice the cabin was, turning in slow circles while Derek told them the short history of the place. The thrill of the tail was lost to Stiles as it was his third time hearing it. He bitterly wondered if he’d have to hear it every single time a new pack member visited or if he could convince Derek to just jot down his speech so he could hand out information pamphlets at the door. Stiles started rummaging through the grocery bags while Derek visited with the two of them in the living room. The looks Allison kept throwing him let him know that she was not fooled one bit by the show Derek was putting on and that she could see not all was fine in paradise. At a break in the conversation, she sidled up to the kitchen counter and watched Stiles expectantly. He was emptying the last bag with a sinking heart and he gave her a look of utmost betrayal. 

“I asked for one thing, Allison.” 

“I know, Stiles. But we didn’t have a cooler and it wouldn’t have been safe to eat when we got here. I brought you the ingredients to make cookies though.” She replied, grabbing the bag of chocolate chips out of his hand and putting it on the counter between them. He glared at her, irrationally hurt despite the fact that he knew she was right. 

“So what’s all this attitude about anyway? You’ve hardly said a word to us and we drove all the way out here to see you. Something happen with Derek?” She asked, folding her hands in front of her and talking low. There was a chance the two wolves weren’t listening in, but Stiles thought it very un-fucking-likely. One of them at least would listen to every word. 

Stiles snorted derisively. 

“More like something didn’t happen with Derek. Hasn’t happened with Derek. Will, apparently, never happen with Derek.” He slapped his hands on the counter and glared at it, hating the hurt he could hear in his own voice. 

“What?” Her eyes widened with surprise and confusion as she snuck a glance over her shoulder towards where Isaac and Derek were talking quietly. When she looked back at Stiles, he continued. 

“He rejected me. He got me all worked up and then stopped in the middle of it. Apparently, his wolf finds me suitable, but Derek himself does not.” His tone was acidic, his arms were wrapping around his torso as if he could protect himself from how much he felt over having to tell the story. 

“I find that pretty hard to believe, Stiles. He’s been eye-fucking you behind your back since you were seventeen.” Stiles snorted, grabbing the eggs off the counter and turning to put them in the fridge. He knew it was bravado making him act so unaffected by the topic. 

“Now who’s embellishing the truth?” he asked, giving her a self-deprecating grin. 

“Whatever you want to believe, Stiles.” She sighed, fidgeting with the bag of chocolate chips. She waited a beat before prompting him, “But go on, so he rejected you. Did you guys talk about it?” 

“Kind of. We basically had a big fight and I told him to keep his paws to himself until he was sure of what he wanted. So… we’ve been at a stalemate for the last two weeks and I’ve been sleeping on the couch cause that handsome jerk over there is afraid he’ll accidentally mate me and I’ll fuck up his life or something.” Without anything left to put away but the chocolate chips Allison was playing with, he found himself without the shield of activity to soften his mood and keep his words flippant. 

“What do you think his hang up is? I mean, his wolf recognizes you as a mate so he shouldn’t be too far behind.” She seemed so sure. Stiles supposed that must be a convenience of not being in the situation yourself. 

“I think he still thinks of me as a kid.” He admitted quietly, hating that parts of him were living up to that expectation by not letting the situation go. He knew he wasn’t handling it well. He’d like to think if he could get out of the house and on his own for a couple days he’d let it go easier, but if he was honestly with himself, he knew it would just cause him to hide out until he could bury himself in someone else. 

“So prove him wrong.” Allison put down the chocolate when she said it, looking him straight in the eye. 

“Well I can’t exactly go grab my power suit and show him a 401k statement from here, can I?” He snapped, scoffing with disgust at the suggestion. 

“Hey, I didn’t reject you. Can the sass.” She snapped back, immediately making him feel bad for giving her attitude. He was as mad as himself as he was Derek, but she didn’t deserve his mouth. He hung his head. 

“Sorry. I’m just frustrated with the situation.” 

“I know, but you’ll figure out something.” She reached out and grabbed his wrist, giving it a brief squeeze as she tried to comfort him. 

“Hey Al, it’s time to head out.” Isaac called from the front door. She gave Stiles a pointed look and then pushed herself away from the counter, grabbing her coat and heading to the front door. Stiles sighed and followed her, giving her a tight squeeze before letting her and Isaac run quickly through the rain to her car. He sighed again as they drove off, almost unaware of how close he was standing to Derek. The heat from Derek’s body radiated, however, and Stile couldn’t stop the shiver of pleasure he got from that warmth so close to him. 

“I don’t think you’re a kid, Stiles” Derek rumbled, next to him. Stiles turned his head to look at him, noting the thoughtful scowl. 

“Then what is the deal, Derek?” 

“Maybe I’m just unsure, Stiles. Maybe I haven’t had the best luck with dating people and it’s made me want to take things slow. I feel like you’re treating this like a race, but really, we’ve got time to do this right. I was kidding when I said mate or die. There is no death at the end of this. There’s just you and me and our decision as to whether or not to spend our lives together. I think that’s worth a little time for consideration instead of us just mauling each other.” 

“You’ve known me since I was sixteen. I haven’t wavered in my feelings towards you since I was seventeen. And maybe that means I’ve been waiting for you to notice me and do something about this feeling between the two of us. So, maybe you want to take things slow, but maybe I’m tired of waiting. Maybe I’ve already made my considerations.” Stiles finished, turning and brushing past Derek to finish put up the bag of chocolate chips. As he retreated, he could feel Derek’s eyes on his back and he thought he heard an audible sigh escape the sourwolf as well. 

\---

That evening, after a quiet, distant dinner, Stiles went upstairs to take a shower. Standing under the hot spray, he felt the tension in his muscles and the heaviness in his brain. He tried to enjoy the feeling of the water sliding over his skin, the warm humidity of the shower, and the calming sound of the spray bouncing off his body and onto the tile of the floor and shower wall… but his mind just kept going back to how desperate he felt under his skin. He wanted to touch himself so badly. Almost as soon as he’d shed his jeans and underwear his cock had started fattening up at the thought of some Stiles-time. Derek was downstairs though, doing God knows what, and Stiles had a niggling feeling if he starting really getting going like he wanted to that the wolf would hear every single bit of it. 

_‘And why should it matter?’_ Stiles thought, soaping up his hands with the sandalwood soap Derek kept. _‘If he doesn’t want me then he’ll stop listening as soon as he hears what I’m doing. If he does, he can deal with it during his own shower. He apparently does it when he’s in here. Why am I the only one suffering?’_

He reached down and took himself in hand. 

“Fuuuuuuck” he hissed out, not realizing how on edge he’d truly been. Just holding himself felt good enough to make him cum. Taking a deep breath, he pumped his hand slowly, savoring the feeling of touching himself again. The smell of sandalwood wafted up to him and he momentarily thought of how Derek had smelled when he’d had his teeth pressed against Stiles’ throat. A small whine escaped his lips and he angled himself so he could sit heavily on the shower’s stone bench. The tile here was cooler and the temperature difference helped ground him. 

Now that the dam had been opened in his mind however, he allowed himself to wallow in his thought of Derek. The outline of his cock through his sweatpants and the way errant beads of water fell from his hair and onto the chest. He thought about the warmth of Derek pressed against him in bed and his hands holding him still as his sleep brain acted out a dream. Thinking of dreams, the ones that had Stiles rutting into his hands as he humped the couch cushions…. In those dreams Derek didn’t reject him. Those dreams had Stiles riding Derek’s long, thick cock as he forced the alpha to whine and beg for Stiles to let him cum. Or they had Derek’s tongue and fingers buried in his ass in way of apology for being such a jerk. Laying back sideways on the bench, Stiles brought a leg up to rest against the wall. His unoccupied hand slid down his chest and stomach, tickling over his hipbone and down the inside of his thigh while he thought of what it would feel like to have Derek opening him up in preparation for his cock. His own finger pressed firmly over the pucker of his ass even as he kept pumping his cock. His eyes squeezed shut as he pressed one finger gently into himself, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. He could imagine Derek sucking him off as he finger fucked him, stubble scraping lightly over his balls when Derek took him deep into his throat. 

“F-f-fuuck” Stiles curled in on himself as his orgasm surprised him. His load was thick and he’d shot almost clear to his chin. Removing his finger from his ass and his hand from his dick, he laid on the bench and caught his breath, staring at the ceiling. 

An alarm broke into his afterglow. Startling upright, Stiles frowned and shut off the water, hastily grabbing the towel he’d laid out on the vanity and tucking it around his hips. He stuck his head out of the bathroom to call for Derek and was alarmed when he smelled something burning. 

“Shit!” he cursed, not knowing where Derek was, and hastily running down the stairs. He followed his nose and could tell the burning was coming from the kitchen. As he rounded the corner to get to the stove, he found himself running headlong into Derek, whose hands seemed to be carrying a tray of flames and charcoal. 

“GOD DAMNIT!” he screamed as the hot pan landed on his outstretched arms when he automatically reached out to catch it. The pain was immediate and he jerked himself away as quickly as he could, falling to the ground from the momentum. Derek looked shocked and appalled, but still carried the pan in his oven mitt clad hands. Stiles thought he could hear Derek yelling ‘Sorry’ over and over as he rushed past Stiles to throw the pan and flaming things into the rain outside. Stiles didn’t really care what he was doing as his arms were red and there were a few blisters forming where the pan had landed on him. He laid there writhing, trying to get his wits back, when strong hands start pulling him up by his armpits. He knows Derek is saying something to him, but he can’t process it yet. The shock and his skin screaming and he’s sure that his mouth is making sounds also. Derek drug him into the kitchen, the fire alarm still going off overhead, and the cabin smelling like smoke. “Stiles… STILES!” Derek yelled, lightly slapping Stiles cheek until Stiles could nod back that he was listening. “I’m going to turn off the alarm. Hold your arms under the water until I get back.” Stiles nodded again but didn’t move, body not following the command. Sighing, Derek grabbed his elbows and bodily positioned him so his arms were under the cold water. At first, Stiles only felt more pain, but gradually the water running over his arms numbed him enough to slowly bring back his higher brain out of hiding. When the alarm cut off, it almost felt like it’s too quiet in the cabin suddenly. Stiles looked around the counters, his eyes drifting to see if his brain can put together a story. The chocolate chips are half gone from the bag and there are patches of flour. There are mixing bowls in the sink and he can see a roll of parchment paper by the stove. 

_‘Cookies…he was making you cookies’_ Stiles thought dumbly, thinking of the flaming death balls that were probably just soggy black lumps in the mud outside. Derek returned from where ever the alarm was located looking a little wild around the eyes, but generally controlled. His eyes swept over Stiles, shock registering on his feature before turning and looking around for something on the floor. It dawns on Stiles then that his towel did not make the full journey with him from the hall to the sink. He looks down at himself, naked, and thinks he’s lucky his arms were the only thing that got burned. Stiles watches as Derek disappears back into the hallway and then returns with his town. He comes near Stiles and holds it in front of his body like he’d be much appreciated if Stiles would cover himself up. The suggestion of moving his arms out from under the water is ludicrous however and Stiles just looks at him. Derek blushes and then visibly swallows before coming closer and wrapping the towels, as well as his arms, around Stiles torso. He tucks the end of the towel into Stiles waist and Stiles briefly mourns that he cannot enjoy the feeling of Derek’s hands on him there because even the water isn’t holding back the dull throb of pain from him anymore. 

“I’m going to go get some antibiotic and bandages…” Derek says, watching Stiles nod before turning and rushing upstairs. Stiles waits, brain starting to catch up with him. What was Derek doing that he missed the timer for the cookies? Or the smell that they were done? Where was he that he--- Derek was listening to him get off. That could be the only thing. Derek was so focused on listening to Stiles beat it in the shower that he completely stopped doing anything else almost to both of their detriment. _‘Holy Shit, Batman…’_ Stiles thought, almost wanting to laugh at the situation. Before he could work himself past a rueful grin, however, Derek rushed back into the kitchen, arms loaded down in supplies. “Derek, I’m okay” he said, noting Derek’s still panicked expression. Derek nodded like he heard him, but still removed his arms from the water to stare at the damage. As soon as the cool water was no longer slowing over the burns, Stiles head began to swim again with the pain. He moaned and hissed as Derek patted his arms dry with a clean cloth. Then he began rubbing some greasy salve onto his arm with feather light touches. The salve numbed the bright sting of the burn, but the harsher, deep ache remained. After Derek wrapped bandages around Stiles entire forearms, he finally stopped for a moment. Stiles looked at him, still dazed and slightly nauseous from his injury. 

“Derek, I’m okay.” He repeated, silently adding to himself _‘But I could use some ibuprofen stat.’_ Derek just held his hands, not looking at him but breathing a bit ragged. Stiles felt lassitude fall over him like a fog as thick black lines appeared on Derek’s arms from where their skin touched. _‘Oh’_ was all Stiles could think as the pain was leeched from him. When he felt himself start to wobble, the relief from the pain making his body too weak to stand, Derek let go of his hands abruptly and pulled him into his arms. 

“Derek, I’m okay” Stiles slurred, patting Derek’s side even as he held his arms out awkwardly so as not to bump his injuries. He felt himself shaking though, and briefly wondered if he _wasn’t_ okay, only to then realize he was not the source of the shaking. Derek Hale was trembling against him almost violently. 

“Derek, are… are you okay?” Stiles asked tentatively, trying to press his upper arms against Derek’s sides in a strange, form of a hug. 

“I-I’m s-s-s-o s-sorry, Stiles!” Derek barely got out his apology before he full out sobbed into Stiles’ shoulder. Shock wasn’t a strong enough word for how Stiles felt. Flabbergasted might come closer. Derek was crying loudly into his neck and shoulder, shaking and squeezing him tight. 

“Derek, it was just an accident. I’m okay. A little worse for wear, but honestly, I’ll heal. I’m okay.” Stiles tried to say consolingly. Derek just hiccupped and held him tighter, bordering on the point where Stiles would have trouble breathing against the pressure on his ribs. 

“It’s no big deal, Der. They were just cookies. We can make some more later.” 

“I almost killed you, Stiles! You could’ve burned to death because of me!” 

“Hey, but I didn’t. Nothing was burned to death but those cookies.” 

“I hurt you!” 

“Shh, it was an accident. It’s not even permanently debilitating damage. It’s okay, I’m okay.” 

“You could have died, Stiles. It would have been my fault. It… it would’ve been just like my family. Oh fuck, Stiles, I’m so sorry!” Derek broke down again. Stiles sighed and tried to hold him through the worst on the crying, knowing he wasn’t going to talk his way out of Derek feeling that particular wound. He brought his arms up and tried to pet Derek’s hair, which only lasted about five seconds before a particular stab of pain let him know that his body wasn’t going to allow that to happen. So he kissed him. He kissed him on his temple and his neck, he kissed his cheek and his ear. He peppered his shoulders with pecks and pressed all the parts of his body that he reasonably could against Derek’s while the man cried and clung to him. After a while, Derek calmed down. He buried his face into Stiles neck and took great, wuffing inhales against his skin. He loosened his grip and allowed a modicum of space between their bodies. 

“So I guess you’re going to get to share a bed with me again anyway.” Stiles tried to tease, murmuring the words into Derek’s hair. 

“What are you talking about, Stiles?” Derek asked miserably. 

“I mean that I’m going to need that pain leeching thing until this heals enough to be tolerable. Especially since we can’t go to the emergency room to get the good meds for me. Tomorrow though, we might want to text Melissa and make sure there’s nothing special we need to do for these burns. They’ll probably be fine, there wasn’t very much blistering, but you know… if you have a nurse in your life, why not use their knowledge?” As Stiles prattled, Derek drew back to look at him in slight wonder. Stiles stopped at the look. “What?” 

“You’re not mad at me?” Derek asked, dropping his eyes down for a moment before lifting them again to meet Stiles gaze. 

“Not about this. This was an accident. And you’re taking care of me. You cleaned and bandaged me. You’re helping me manage my pain. You _apologized_ for hurting me. We’re square, Derek. I’m not going to hold this against you…especially since that would hurt like a son-of-a-bitch right now.” Stiles tried to finish with a joke, but Derek just frowned. 

“Are you hurting right now?” He asked, drawing himself closer to Stiles, his eyes full of concern and regret. 

“I’m okay right now, Der… Just fucking tired. Let’s go upstairs.” Stiles jerked his head towards the stairs and gave Derek a soft smile. Derek returned it shyly, finally stepping away from Stiles and breaking his embrace. The cool air that rushed between pebbled Stiles skin and he was once again reminded that he was basically naked. They walked slowly towards the stairs, Derek rushing around as they went turning off lights and adding more wood to the fire. He was only a few steps behind Stiles when he climbed the stairs to the bedroom. 

Stiles stopped a foot from the bed, staring at his spot and weighing his options. He could ask Derek to help him put on some underwear and hope the towel covered his modesty or he could just lay in bed naked since Derek had already seen everything downstairs. Derek had entered the room behind him and seemed content to let Stiles take the lead for what happened next. Apathy over his nudity ruled as he thought about how hard he was going to sleep once he was on a mattress again instead of on the couch. 

“Just pull back the covers for me. I’m going to get in as I am. I just want to sleep.” 

Derek rushed to pull back the covers. He looked away as Stiles tugged off the towel and laid down, but Stiles caught the way his eyes flickered over him before he pulled the covers over his body. Stiles smiled and closed his eyes, body already blissing out at the feel of the mattress under him. He felt the mattress shift as Derek got into bed next to him and then he felt a tentative touch on his hand. Opening eyes, he turned his head and looked over to where Derek was watching him warily, his hand still barely touching Stiles’ and hovering. 

“It would be easier for me to take the pain without bothering you if we just…kept touching.” Derek explained, looking a little shy about it. Stiles flexed his hand gently around Derek’s fingers, and Derek slowly settled the weight of his hand into Stiles’. The warm press of skin at his palm calming was calming and Stiles felt himself being lulled closer to sleep now that the excitement had worn completely off. Derek was still watching him however and he sighed and stared up through the skylight. It was still overcast, but the clouds were thin and he could tell where the moon was settled in the sky above them. 

“So what moon is that, Der?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over the back of Derek’s hand in small circles. Derek still seemed a little freaked out and while Stiles couldn’t hold him in his arms, he could offer him this small bit of comfort before he fell asleep. 

“Hm?” Derek answered, not expecting the question. He glanced almost derisively up through the skylight. “Oh, this is no moon. In a couple weeks we will be under the Frosty Moon. Some Native American tribes also call it the Beaver Moon. It’s the last moon before winter truly begins. For the purposes of this ritual, it’s also usually the moon under which couples get their first dose of being sick of one another. They nip at each other because of the close proximity and draw back. It’s usually when the first stages of interpersonal problem solving come into play. We kind of jumped the gun with it.” He finished with a little smile. Stiles smiled back and nodded, squeezing his hand. 

“Only four moons to go now, Der. We can do it.” Stiles yawned, shifting his weight and flinching at the pull of the bandages on his arms. That same wonderful lassitude as earlier fell upon him then and he knew Derek was taking care of him. The last thing he remembered before sleep overtook him was the shifting of the mattress and a warm body moving closer to his. 

\---

Stiles awoke to a gentle but heavy pressure on his bladder. He stretched, wincing as pain lanced through his arms. He sighed and looked down to find Derek using his stomach as a pillow. Derek was fast asleep, curled into a ball at Stiles side. When Stiles shifted to try and wake him so he could get up to go to the restroom, Derek mumbled incoherently and reached out for Stiles hand. When he found it, he pulled it in towards him, kissing the knuckles and leeching the small sip of pain that Stiles had been experiencing. Stiles watched him for a minute, touched at the sweet gesture, but Nature was about to make this a rather awkward situation. 

“Hey Der” he called, wiggling his hand out from Derek’s grasp. Derek hummed and turned his face in to nuzzle Stiles stomach. 

“Hey Der, I need to go pee” he tried again, setting his hand onto Derek’s meaty shoulder and pushing lightly. 

“No, I’m fine” Derek answered, misunderstanding in his sleep stupor. “Yes, you are. But I’m not. Why don’t you let me up?” Stiles tried pushing him again. Not even a shift in position. 

“No, need to protect you. Keep you safe. Stiles…” 

“Oh for pete’s sake” Stiles had had enough. He had to pee, damnit. He sat up and swiftly shifted out from under Derek’s head to stand. He barely caught the indignant “What?” from the bed as he sped into the water closet and let loose his bladder. When he returned, Derek had curled into his spot and was hugging his pillow. Figuring it was not worth the fight for another hour of sleep, Stiles walked over and got into Derek’s side of the bed, turning to his side and finding slumber once again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Next update will be January 29th, 2016 before midnight central time. 
> 
> Want more sterek-y goodness? Or just someone new to follow on tumblr? Follow me at [skinsharpenedteeth's tumblr](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com).
> 
> i am accepting prompts on there at this time also.


	4. Give Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek gives Stiles a nice surprise for Thanksgiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sexy times in this chapter...fucking FINALLY! 
> 
> Also, unbeta'd to no one's surprise. And honestly, I finished writing this chapter at 6 am this morning and I have only done one edit over it, so if you happen to see some crazy shit in there, please PLEASE let me know. post a comment, send me a msg on Tumblr, something. Seriously. I am a completely humanoid human.

****Derek’s POV**** November

Derek spent two weeks leeching pain from Stiles due to his arms. Two weeks of helping him in every way that Derek could think of without treating him like a total invalid. Even when Stiles’ arms had healed enough for him not to need Derek’s constant pain leeching, Derek still found himself making excuses to touch him. He hoped it wasn’t obvious or notable because he didn’t want Stiles to get the wrong idea, but he also couldn’t stand the distance that had begun to creep back into their relationship now that touching wasn’t imperative for Stiles’ pain management. Derek would just brush his arm against Stiles’ while in the kitchen or sit close to him while on the couch to feel their knees jostle against one another. 

At night, he found that even if he started squarely on his side of the bed, by the morning he would have his leg or arm or head pressed against Stiles. He was lucky he hadn’t woken up humping Stiles again, since his body was obviously drawn to his while he was unconscious. The times he’d woken with his head pressed between Stiles’ shirt covered shoulder blades, he’d found that his hand was already gripping his shaft as he drew in deep pulls of Stiles’ scent through his shirt. It didn’t help that since Derek had now actually seen Stiles naked, his mind would not stop popping the image into his dreams. He thought he’d seen Stiles nude before, but if he had it was a long, long time ago. He didn’t remember Stiles being fit and lean, with sinewy muscles and thatches of dark hair over his chest and groin. The moles that he’d always figured were contained mostly to Stiles face and neck apparently smattered over his chest and back, down by his legs and over his ass. Even in his freaked out state over hurting Stiles, he had found later that his mind memorized every detail of Stiles’ skin. The dreams that had teased before at stretches of pale flesh now swam in seas of it. 

This morning hadn’t been any different. 

_Stiles was kissing his thighs, crawling up Derek’s body with a predatory gleam in his amber eyes. Derek could feel the smooth slide of Stiles hands as they glided up Derek’s naked body. Stiles caged him in, one arm on either side of his head as he lowered his weight on top of Derek. He crushed his lips against Derek’s own in a hungry, claiming kiss._

_“Don’t you want me, Der?” Stiles teased, mouthing down Derek’s jaw and neck even as he undulated on top of Derek’s body. “Don’t you want to be mine?”_

_Stiles’ teeth sank into the top of his shoulder, the bite not stopping until Derek felt warm blood flow from around Stiles’ lips. His entire body jolted, electricity filling every cell and pathway as Stiles’ claim solidified on him. Derek felt his dick jerk between them and warm cum painted their bellies and groins as Stiles just kept biting him through his orgasm. When Stiles relaxed his jaw, Derek suddenly found himself tasting a mouth full of his own blood as Stiles kissed him. He held his lips above Derek’s, hovering between kisses, tongue snaking out to trace the inseam of Derek’s mouth. Stiles eyes glowed gold and he whispered, “Mine…”_

Derek jolted awake. Stiles has draped himself over Derek’s side in his sleep, one leg draped and curling around Derek’s, his arm stretched over Derek’s stomach, and his face mashed into Derek’s shoulder. Derek breathed in a shaky breath to find that it saturated it the smell of Stiles’ sleep sweat scent. His cock gave an insistent throb between his legs, even as he started to extricate himself from Stiles’ grasp. There was no way he’d be able to wish away his erection this morning. It was painful as it slapped against his stomach and his balls felt heavy and tight against his thighs. 

Padding quickly over to the bathroom, he shut the door softly behind him and made his way into shower. He turned the water on, but quickly stepped out of the way to wait for the water to warm. He grabbed his cock and began to make quick, articulate tugs. He wasn’t showing off, he just needed to cum so he could get back to sleep. The dream lingered behind his eyes as he played back over the scene, his breath punching out of him as he remembered how it felt to have Stiles bite him with a claiming bite. He felt pulse after pulse of his cum shoot out of his dick while he thought about Stiles whispering “Mine” over and over in his head. 

Stepping into the shower spray, Derek washed his body off and mused. He was probably more invested than he should be at this point. Stiles was slowly wrecking him. 

\---

When Derek emerged from the shower, Stiles was sitting on the side of the bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees as he talked on his cell phone. It was still pretty early for most of the pack, so Derek’s curiosity was immediately piqued. 

“Yeah, Dad, I get it….. No, no, I would want that one, too. It just sucks. I miss you…. Yea, yeah I know. Just like me to get caught up in something like that…Uh huh…. Okay, I’ll look for it in my e-mail. You’re going to try and spend some time with Melissa right? I know Scott and Kira are going to New York to visit her fam… mmm, okay…. Okay, okay! Right. I’ll check in with you later. Love you, Dad…. Bye.” Stiles pulled the phone from his ear and Derek watched his shoulders slump. 

“Everything alright?” he asked, walking around to sit next to Stiles on the bed. Stiles sighed and nodded. Derek waited a beat, he knew Stiles would spit out the story shortly. He couldn’t stay silent for long when something was eating at him. 

“My dad can’t make it up for Thanksgiving.” Stiles said softy, staring at the carpet in front of his feet. The disappointment in his voice cut Derek deep. 

“That… sucks. I’m sorry, Stiles.” 

“Well, I mean, it’s understandable. The way his holidays go, he can either have Christmas off or he can have Thanksgiving off. Most of the time he takes neither off so someone else can have more time at home, but he was going to try to swing both this year. It didn’t work out for him so he chose Christmas since he’d be able to come up and stay a day or two.” Stiles parroted the information back at Derek with an air of ambivalence, but the heavy sigh that followed it told another tale. “I just miss him. I miss seeing him. I wish it wasn’t another, like, month before I got to hang with him.” 

Derek remained quiet, just listening. He knew Stiles rarely went a day without speaking to his father. He’d listened in on enough harping phone conversations where Stiles checked on everything from his father’s diet to his dentist appointments. He ragged on him over football teams and listened avidly to all the cop stories his dad told. It hurt Derek to think that he was going to suffer this way over a family holiday. 

They sat in silence, each encompassed in their own thoughts for what felt like hours. Derek started forming a plan in his mind when Stiles startled him by standing up suddenly and slapping his thighs. 

“Right. No use sulking over it. I’m going to take a shower. It’s your turn to make breakfast.” He began walking over to the bathroom, forced joviality bouncing his step. He spun on his foot at the last minute and pointed a finger at Derek. 

“No grapefruit. It’s a day for bacon!” he announced, and then firmly shut the doors behind him. Derek sighed and listened for the shower to start running before he reached over the bed to grab his own phone off of the bedside table. 

**Derek:** _(sent)_ Are you and Boyd going to be in town for Thanksgiving week?  
**Erica:** _(received)_ Yes. What’s up, Daddy Alpha?  
**Derek:** _(sent)_ Don’t call me that.  
**Erica:** _(received)_ :-P ;-)  
**Derek:** _(sent)_ I might need you to do me a favor. I’ll let you know soon.  
**Erica:** _(received)_ I already did you a favor, or have you two not found the cock ring?  
**Derek:** _(sent)_ Not that kind of favor. Just stay alert for my text. I should be able to let you know what I need exactly in the next day or so.  
**Erica:** _(received)_ Fine fine. Boyd says ‘hi’, btw.  
**Derek:** _(sent)_ Tell him I said Hi back. Ttyl.  
**Erica:** _(received)_ TTYL /bates breath

That chore finished, Derek wandered downstairs to figure out how he was going to pull off the next part. He guessed that while informal, texting might be the best way to go on this one as well. He pulled out a lipped cookie sheet from the cupboard and set the oven to preheat for the bacon. He and Stiles had already discovered that between the two of them, they could demolish an entire package of bacon pretty easily. While he waited for the oven to preheat, Derek grabbed his phone again. He typed out a quick message and then waited, pulling out the ingredients for Mediterranean omelets. His phone lit up a few minutes later as he was laying the bacon out on the tray. 

**Derek:** _(sent)_ Sir, this is Derek Hale. If it would be alright, I would like to speak with you about something concerning your son. It’s not an emergency, but it is of a time sensitive nature. Please respond by text.  
**Sheriff Stilinski:** _(received)_ Son, you better be damn glad you introduced yourself first because otherwise that message sounds awful nefarious. What do you want?  
**Derek:** _(sent)_ Oh, yeah. I can see that now. I’m sorry, sir. It wasn’t my intention.  
**Derek:** _(sent)_ I wanted to ask you for a favor for Stiles.  
**Sheriff Stilinski:** _(received)_ Why should I do anything for you?  
**Derek:** _(sent)_ It’s not for me. It’s for Stiles. Just hear me out?  
**Sheriff Stilinski:** _(received)_ Okay. If this is going to be a long involved diatribe, just e-mail it to me. I am at work. I’ll read it when I get a break.  
**Derek:** _(sent)_ Thanks, Sheriff. I will. 

\----

The days seemed to pass with Derek on his phone a little more and Stiles trying to hide how much he was sulking over not being able to see his father for the Thanksgiving holiday. Derek tried to limit his time to when Stiles was in the shower, but then he’d become distracted the moment he heard Stiles sharp intake of breath that usually signaled him touching himself for pleasure instead of function. If his brain short-circuited every time and he didn’t reboot until the last sigh was heard, then it was a mystery for the ages. Where had the time gone? 

Stiles seemed to be trying to fill his sadness over the solitary holiday with action. He insisted Derek order a turkey to be delivered in from the nearest grocer and was pouring over recipes, checking their pantry, and then finding substitutions or adding items for the list of things to be delivered on Wednesday. Derek took it all in stride, watching him frantically call out to the grocer to ask them to include this-and-that and add it to the final bill. 

“I didn’t know there was a place to deliver groceries around here?” Derek queried after Stiles fifth phone call in two days to a store called Bennigan’s Food that was thirty minutes away. “They don’t normally. But you’re tipping them a hundred dollars for the house call and if they ask, we’ve got a feeble, terminally ill relative that cannot be left alone at all and our relatives are unable to travel in for the holiday but Granny’s dying wish was a traditional Thanksgiving.” Stiles grinned impishly, and went back to what he’d been doing before his phone call. It looked like he was transcribing a recipe from his phone onto a piece of notebook paper. 

“I hope you didn’t tell them all that in one go cause it sounds pretty fake.” Derek commented, sipping the coffee Stiles had made earlier for breakfast. It was starting to cool, but it was a good coffee so he wasn’t going to waste it for lack of heat. 

“Pfft! I know how to lie, Derek. Little tidbits laced with as much truth as possible. Include non-truths sparingly so it’s easier to keep up with the ruse. I got this.” He didn’t even look up as he said this, just kept writing down the instruction for what Derek could read as “Praline Sweet Potato Casserole”. Yum. 

“Should I be concerned you have it down to a science?” Derek asked. 

“No, you should expect it. I’m a human living in the secret world of supernatural creatures. My life is kind of weird and explaining things to regular people takes some slight of hand. Lying is a survival skill.” Stiles answered. Derek felt a strange pang of pity and fondness at Stiles’ admission. He hated that Stiles had to lie about anything in his life, but especially to protect the people he was closest too. He also thought it was so commendable and strong of Stiles to think nothing of the sacrifice. Moving from behind the counter, Derek set down his cup next to Stiles’ pad of paper and wrapped his arms around the man’s torso, pulling him back even as Derek himself leaned forward into a tight, lingering hug. 

“Thank you for helping to protect the pack, Stiles.” He let the hug linger a second longer before he let go and picked up his cup of coffee again. Stiles didn’t seem to even acknowledge the hug, but Derek knew he heard the weight from his words. Derek turned to go upstairs for his shower when he heard Stiles ask quietly. 

“What did your family do for Thanksgiving?” Derek stopped, holding his breath unconsciously as he thought about the question. The rush of memories seemed to come at him from no-where. Such an innocuous question, but he felt like he’d been side swiped by a tank! He let them wash over him, closing his eyes and remembering to inhale, as he quieted the raucous barrage of ghosts in his head to try and organize a response. 

“Derek?” Stiles voice broke through the din and Derek’s eyes snapped open, immediately pinned down to meet the copper and gold ones in front of his. “You okay?” 

“Yeah… yeah. Sorry. It’s been… a long time since I thought about it.” He responded, noting the worry in Stiles face. He tried to smile, but he knew it came out far more bitter than sweet. 

“You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want. I just… thought… that I was making this holiday all about what I do with my family and I hadn’t asked for your input. I don’t want to exclude you from this, I’d like… I’d like us to do this together.” Stiles fidgeted as he talked, crossing an arm in front of his chest to absentmindedly scratch at his neck. Derek felt a new flood of emotion run through him. He had always loved Stiles as a friend and as an errant member of his pack, but this new love running through him was for Stiles as a mate. Stiles was building a relationship between the two of them, he wanted Derek’s input in the making of a shared memory. Other’s would hear the story, would know about their holiday and their time in the cabin, but this was Stiles first attempt at building something that would only really be known or shared between the two of them. It was more than a shared experience garnered through outside forces, but something they could make together. This time when Derek smiled, it was genuine. 

“No, I think… I think I’d like that. Let’s go sit down.” Derek responded, quietly, but still smiling. Stiles’ smile echoed his own as he went back to the counter to grab his own cup of coffee and then he met Derek on the couch, settling in with his back against the armrest to give Derek his full attention. Derek sat down and leaned back, angling towards Stiles with his arm over the back of the sofa and one ankle resting on top of his knee. He sighed and thought about what he wanted to tell Stiles first. 

“My mom…” Derek stopped, trying to think how best to describe the great Alpha Talia. “My mom, as you know, was our pack alpha. She was good. She was better than me. And she loved holidays.” 

Again the cacophony of memories threatened to sink him into silence, like voices from another room catching his attention and beckoning him to join. 

“That’s kind of an understatement actually. She loved every opportunity that was presented to her to celebrate pack. She celebrated everyone’s birthday with equal fervor and attention to detail. She was really big on making sure that everyone knew how much they were valued to her despite whatever rank they might’ve held in the pack hierarchy. She was very, very personal with everyone. No one was afraid to come to her if they needed something and she always seemed to have her finger in every person’s pie, but I don’t remember her once being outwardly overwhelmed. I don’t know if it was the maternal instinct blending with being an alpha or what, but my mom was fucking amazing.” He paused, shaking his head at the memory of his mother and trying to get back on track. 

“As good as she was on a personal level, holidays were her favorite. It didn’t matter if it was some minor holiday like Labor Day or a big holiday like Christmas. She threw down. Everyone was invited; everyone was encouraged to bring something whether it be food or a game or something. One year in the summer, she made up a holiday so we could all get together at the lake for a big pack camp out. She called it The Great Summer Hale-iday. She was corny like that sometimes.” 

Stiles chuckled, covering his mouth with one of his hands. 

“Oh god, what’s the date? We so need to do that. We can call it the ‘The Great Summer McCall-Hale-iday’ or something. Between all of us, I’m sure it would be epic!” Stiles was leaning forward, his body now in the middle of the couch, one leg curled under while the other’s knee brushed Derek’s. 

“Maybe. I don’t remember the exact date, but we’ll see.” Derek smiled shyly and bumped Stiles’ knee with his fondly before continuing his story. 

“But Thanksgiving? Thanksgiving was no exception to my mom’s manic need for family bonding. It was a capital B capital D, Big Deal. She would assign everyone items by side dish, vegetable, dessert, or appetizer. It was a two day event. We would start Thursday afternoon and go until Saturday mid-day or night. There was a lot of food, but there were also pack runs, dancing, party games…some years, we’d do a mating ceremony or a new pack member recognition ceremony. It was… wonderful. Thanksgiving would be when Mom would invite all the pack members that had branched off to come back home if they wanted. We had seventy people one year show up and we had to build tables to fit everyone and sit in the yard. Mom _almost_ looked overwhelmed that year. That year Thanksgiving lasted until Sunday. It was so huge.” 

“What were your favorite parts of it?” Stiles asked, his body leaning forward as he listened to Derek speak more about his family than he ever had to anyone in else in the pack. 

“Well, I mean it was great seeing everyone, but let’s be honest, Thanksgiving is about the food. We’d have turkey, but it was caught wild, and we had venison and pig too. We’d have these herb and sausage stuffed mushrooms that were served with cheese melted over them in a red wine and beef reduction sauce. Peter was actually the one who used to make that. His wife couldn’t cook at all. It was a running joke about how he always was the one making dinner. We also had cornbread dressing that my dad would make, and green beans that were cooked with bacon and almonds. Someone always managed to produce a blackberry cherry cobbler and key lime cheesecake. I will never forget my aunt’s cranberry chutney. I could seriously forego just about everything else we had to eat that. I mean, there was basically anything that you could think of. My mom was smart and made it buffet style, and then once everyone was full and talking she’d make us each tell the person to right and left of us something about them that we were thankful for. It was nice.” Derek didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes as he remembered all these things about his Thanksgivings before the fire. It had finally been long enough that talking about them didn’t fill him with remorse and pain, but with warmth and comfort. He smiled, leaving his eyes closed as he let the flashes of memory flit behind his eyes, happy to finally be seen once again. His wolf laid quiet, remembering also. 

“Derek, I’m going to kiss you.” Stiles said quietly, in front of him. Derek opened his eyes a sliver to watch Stiles climb onto his lap. He let them fall closed again as Stiles’ warm hands cradled the sides of his face. Stiles’ lips were dry and warm when they caressed his, soft and tentative. Derek tilted his head and let his lips press back, matching the slow, measured pace that Stiles set with his mouth. They kissed for a few minutes, like taking sips from each other’s mouths, lips sliding over each other without fervor. They didn’t lack heat, despite their slow pace, Derek felt the growing need to quicken their actions and take over starting to warm his insides. Breaking from Stiles lips, he trailed his kisses over Stiles’ jaw and then down his neck, stopping at his shirt collar. His hands wrapped around Stiles’ slimmer frame and he pulled his body flush against him as he inhaled deeply. Stiles didn’t try to push them any farther, leaving a kiss or two at the juncture between Derek’s jaw and neck, and then letting his own arms wrap around Derek to hug him back. 

“I don’t think I can do those mushrooms, but if you want cornbread dressing, I’ve got you covered.” Stiles spoke into the side of his neck. Derek smiled and nodded, not saying anything but nuzzling Stiles’ hairline. 

“You’re going to have to do the turkey though. And the cranberry chutney. I’m not doing all the work.” Stiles started, his body pulling away as he began to organize their duties aloud. Derek just smiled and watched him talk, his hands growing more expressive as he started on time tables and work load. 

“Whatever you want, Stiles. I’m game.” Derek answered, kissing Stiles once more on the lips when he paused his talking to draw breath. Stiles looked in Derek’s eyes like he was questioning exactly how far that sentiment went. Derek wasn’t sure himself if there was a boundary any more. 

“You go take your shower. I know that’s where you were headed. I’m going to make a master ingredient list before I call Bennigan’s again.” Stiles said, breaking the moment and bringing them back to Earth. 

Stiles climbed off his lap and held his hands out to pull Derek up to stand. Derek accepted them not out of need, but to feel the warmth of them as they circled his own. Then they stood, their bodies millimeters apart, looking at one another, the moment stretching between them. Derek’s phone decided to further ruin the moment by beeping out an alert for a new e-mail, breaking the silence and tension between them as Stiles stepped away and went back to the counter to begin his preparations. Derek sighed and grabbed his phone out of his pocket, opening the alert to read the Sheriff’s response to his latest inquiry. He shot a glance towards Stiles back, smiling at how well his plan was coming to fruition, and then he turned and started upstairs towards the shower. Derek had a good feeling about this holiday. 

\---

Thanksgiving Day was a whirlwind. Derek manned the oven as he tried to not burn the bird. Stiles was like a tornado around him, causing chaos and noise to blow through the kitchen. He had to make so much of the dinner on the stove top due to Derek’s bird, with the exception of the cornbread dressing which he had made the day before and would simply reheat before the main meal. Derek, in the interim of basting and checking the meat temperature, made the two place settings on the table and let Stiles feed him nibbles of every single dish. He was having a genuinely good time as Stiles and he danced around each other trying to get everything cooked and ready. Music filled the cabin from the iPod speaker upstairs and the smell of good food infused the air. 

By the time they could finally load up their plates and head to the table, it was dark outside. The night was clear, the stars shining bright and many in the unpolluted sky of the mountains. Derek opened a bottle of wine he’d had Stiles get delivered and poured each of them a glass before starting. As they settled in their chairs, Derek stopped Stiles before he could take the first bite. 

“Wait, I’ve got one more thing to make this holiday a little better.” Stiles looked at him confused as he took out his phone from his back pocket. He pressed a few buttons and waited, staring at his screen and ignoring Stiles suspicious looks. When the Sheriff’s face appeared, Derek smiled and turned his phone to prop against the gravy boat in front of Stiles’ plate. 

“Hey kid!” The Sheriff’s voice rang out from the phone. Stiles face broke into a giant smile as he saw his dad. 

“Oh my God, DAD! Hi! What is this? When did you learn to skype?” 

“Derek had Erica come over and teach me. He said you were kind of sad about me not making it up there today, so he arranged it so we could have dinner together anyway.” 

“You set up a skype date for me and my dad on Thanksgiving?” Stiles looked at Derek in surprise. Derek grinned and shrugged, taking a sip of his wine. 

“I got a plate from Melissa earlier today and I’ve only got an hour break so… tell me how have you been doing up there?” 

Derek took this as his cue to dig in to his food and watched as Stiles and the sheriff chatted about everything and nothing while they ate their respective meals. When Derek finished his meal, he excused himself to put his plate in the sink and then he wandered to lay on the couch while Stiles and his dad finished up their conversation. Lulled by the sound of voices, Derek felt himself drowsing on the couch, his mind moving closer to sleep the longer the conversation went on. 

He awoke to the feeling of Stiles hovering over him, his lips moving against Derek’s to coax him awake. “Stiles” Derek said, shifting to his side automatically so Stiles could lay beside him on the couch. His hand went automatically to rest on Stiles’ hip to keep him from toppling onto the floor. Stiles hummed and he kissed Derek again as soon as he was settled. 

“Thank you for being sneaky and setting this up with my Dad. I really, really fucking missed him.” Stiles said, the arm he wasn’t laying on wrapping around Derek’s waist. 

“You’re welcome. I thought you’d like it.” Derek murmured, kissing Stiles’ forehead. 

“The only thing I don’t like is that you and I didn’t really get to have our joint holiday. You kind of gave it to me and my dad. I don’t think you said more than a dozen words throughout dinner.” Stiles had leaned back so he could look Derek in the eye, his face serious and tone slightly chiding. 

“It’s okay, Stiles. I didn’t feel left out. I wanted to do something nice for you.” 

“It _was_ nice. It was really nice. Thank you.” Stiles repeated, pressing their bodies together to emphasize his point. Derek smiled down at him and when he initiated the next kiss, it felt like a chapter beginning between them. 

Stiles accepted his kiss with a hum of approval. His hands bold on Derek’s body, moving them both so that he was more fully on his back and Derek’s was half on top of him. When they continued kissing, it wasn’t able to stay slow and measured like it had earlier in the week. Their lips sped up as their hands roamed free over their clothes, catching only inches of skin here and there and exciting them further. Stiles’ hands were the first to slip beneath clothing, their broad width smoothing up Derek’s stomach and over the hills and valleys of his ribs. Derek made a sound, the broken wanton quality of it surprising him, when Stiles fingers brushed lightly over his nipples. Stiles answered his sound with a gasp, breaking their kiss as Derek reciprocated and let his hand slide under Stiles’ shirt to clutch possessively at his hip, thumb barely tracing the inside of Stiles’ waistband. 

“Derek?” Stiles only said his name, but it seemed to encompass all the questions in his inflection. _Are we really doing this? Are you sure? Is this what you want? Do we need to stop?_ Derek kissed Stiles, his mouth trailing over his cheek like a whisper, then down past his ear and onto his neck. He laved his tongue over the muscles in Stiles’ neck, listening to the whimpers and feeling the restless shift of his body beneath Derek’s. 

“Yes, Stiles. I’m here. I want this.” Derek said, pulling himself up to stare into Stiles’ eyes as he said it. Stiles looked at him in wonder, his eyes wide and his breath hitching. He licked his lips and grinned then, his hands grabbing the hem of Derek’s shirt and pulling upwards. 

“Then off, off, off! I have been looking at you naked for _months_! I just want to get my hands all fucking over you!” 

Stiles may have said hands, but he seemed to have meant mouth. As soon as Derek’s shirt had cleared his head, he felt lips, tongue, and teeth wetting his chest. Stiles hands roamed also, but his main focus seemed to be running his splayed fingers through the dark hair on Derek’s chest and stomach while his mouth gave stinging kisses to his skin. 

“Fuck Derek, you feel so perfect to me.” Stiles sighed against his skin, before trapping one of his nipples between his teeth. Derek hissed and arched into Stiles mouth, his hands burying themselves in Stiles’ hair. When Stiles released Derek’s nipple from his teeth, he smoothed his tongue over it, circling the nub and sucking the flesh softly between his lips. Derek felt him release and pulled him up into a crushing kiss, all heat and dancing tongues. Stiles nimble fingers worked their way down to Derek’s jeans, easily finding the solid length of Derek’s erection and trailing over it briefly before attacking the button and fly. When he’d gotten them undone, Derek expected him to go straight of his cock and bit his lip waiting to feel the strong grip encircle him, but Stiles instead pushed his hands down the sides, smoothing over Derek’s hips and then back to clutch at the meat of his ass. 

“Derek” Stiles gasped, grinding upward into his cloth covered thigh. “Let’s switch, lay on your back for me.” 

“Only if you get naked, too.” Derek answered, giving Stiles bottom lip a parting nip before he heaved himself up into a sitting position so he could let Stiles shimmy out from underneath him. If he looked half as wrecked as Stiles already did, then Derek looked well fucked and he hadn’t even cum yet. Stiles stood and watched as Derek slowly pushed down his jeans onto the floor, making a show of spreading his legs so Stiles could see his fill. Stiles looked like he was thinking very, very dirty things as his eyes traveled down and back up Derek’s body. He bit his lip and grinned before pulling off his own shirt. 

Derek’s eyes drank in each new inch of skin revealed. He’d seen it all during the cookie disaster, but this was undiluted by panic. Every movement of Stiles hips or hands was deliberately sexual. The way his fingers lingered at the button of his jeans before opening them and letting them fall, or the way he cupped himself over his underwear before smoothing those down as well. Derek’s mouth flooded with saliva as he took in naked, turned-on Stiles. When the smell of Stiles arousal hit his nose, it was even better. His wolf was clawing, panting, snarling to let loose on the man in front of him. He looked so fucking good. 

“You look like you’re about to eat me, Big Bad” Stiles snarked, shuffling closer and kneeling on the floor in front of Derek. His wolf howled at the show of submission, at the obvious tribute to pack rank. Derek only let out the breath he’d been holding, bending forward and pulling Stiles closer to him by a hand on the back of his neck. 

“I might in a bit, if you’re good.” He breathed the words into Stiles mouth before kissing him, tongue pushing into the boys mouth and claiming it. Stiles moaned into the kiss, his fingernails scratching down Derek’s thighs. Derek broke the kiss with a hiss as Stiles hand finally gripped the base of his prick. 

“Oh, I’m always good.” Stiles replied, looking anything but. He pushed Derek to lean back against the couch back with his free hand. Derek watched as Stiles kept eye contact and retracted his hand to his own swollen member. He broke the gaze to look down towards Derek, a dirty grin tweaking his lips, as he lowered his lips. The feather light kisses he placed up and down Derek’s cock left him breathless and groaning. Every time his hips shifted to give himself more stimulation against Stiles’ lips, Stiles backed off, kissing his inner thighs or mouthing wetly over his balls. It was exquisite agony, the light teasing. He didn’t understand the end game until he noticed Stiles own hand working furiously at his own erection. 

“Fuck, Stiles…” he groaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. Stiles rewarded him with a long, wet lick from base to tip of his flushed cock. He kissed the tip, tongue swirling over the head and dipping into his leaking slit. Derek felt his toes curling into the rug, it felt so fucking good. 

“Derek, let me…” Stiles broke off, lifting onto his knees and jacking himself furiously, cock pointing at Derek’s own. His breathing was ragged as he worked to push himself over the edge, and Derek drank in the sight of his flushed chest and open, slack mouth. His face looked like he was in concentrated pain, the pleasure so close to culminating. When he finally started to cum, Derek watched as Stiles painted his cock, balls, and stomach in cum, marking him with his spunk. Derek felt himself throb against the liquid heat being spilled onto him and he wrapped his own hand around himself to spread the warm, milky seed all over the length of him. 

“Oh god, Derek, let me.” Stiles gasped out, swatting Derek’s hand away and finally wrapping his mouth around his shaft. He licked and sucked, hollowing out his cheeks when he worked the head. He relaxed his jaw and took Derek to root, swallowing convulsively even as he worked his tongue. He bobbed his head and worked Derek like he’d worked himself, with express intent to orgasm. Derek’s body was winding itself tighter and tighter as his orgasm approached, his hands grasping loosely at Stiles’ hair even as he tried to hold himself from bucking and choking Stiles on his dick. What ended it was Stiles hand trailing up his inner thigh and rubbing the skin between his balls and asshole, dipping closer to his hole and brushing over the pucker gently. Derek shot his load, body curling and etiquette failing as he held Stiles down, nose buried in his pubes, as he ground his cock into his mouth and throat. 

When he came down, he saw Stiles pull himself up and wipe tears out of his eyes, laughing roughly. Derek was leaned back again, catching his breath. Stiles grinned at him and climbed into his lap, kissing him sweetly before Derek had to bury his face in Stiles’ throat. The afterglow was amazing, he felt like he’d been broken and put back together in a better way. He kissed at Stiles adam apple, over his jaw, and then up to his mouth again. Stiles just smiled into the kiss, running his hands softly through Derek’s hair, almost petting him. Derek didn’t care, he felt too amazing. They stayed in each other’s laps until the chill from the dying fire beckoned Derek to stand up and break the small bubble they’d created with their bodies and their intimacy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Next update will be on February 5th by midnight central time. 
> 
> Come visit me at tumblr if you like. I'm  SkinSharpenedTeeth.


	5. Momma knows best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissa comes to visit and does some good ole fashioned Momma'ing. It's a beautiful thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'd like to thank everyone who talked me through writing this chapter. [ Jes ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jesibella/pseuds/Jesibella) owns my soul all of the time, but especially when she reads over my stuff for glaring errors....esp when she doesn't even belong in the fandom. And this [ cherry dollface](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LucifersHitman/pseuds/LucifersHitman) here for listening to ramble and bemoan things. I adore and appreciate you both. 
> 
> That being said, this hasn't TRULY been beta'd. I literally only asked for a quick look for glaring errors, but if you see something please feel free to post a comment of catch me on [tumblr.](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com) I honestly will not hate you for it and will try to fix it if I can as quickly as possible.

***** Stiles’ POV *****  
DECEMBER

One amazing blow job later and no repeat performance or promise of reciprocity; this is the new Hell that Stiles inhabits. Since Thanksgiving there had been make out sessions that had left his lips raw and chapped, there had been morning snuggles turned into frottage galore, and then one very satisfying double hand job in the shower, but anything past that had been derailed by probing _**questions**_! Stiles could easily use the afternoon that Melissa was supposed to visit as a perfect example. She wasn’t due for another hour or so, so Stiles had initiated some couch makeout time in hopes of a similar performance as Thanksgiving. Maybe the couch was the key? Everything else had been in the bedroom, bathroom, or on the sun porch. Therefore, every time Derek tried to kiss soft, Stiles would answer by deepening the kiss and grinding upward into Derek’s hips. Derek would scowl through the kiss and then detach his lips from Stiles, guiding them over Stiles’ cheeks and jaw, down his neck, until he found his way back to Stiles’ lips to try again so slow and lingering kisses that were sweet, but not what Stiles was truly craving. Fed up, Stiles let the kisses stay shallow, but he also let his hands wander lower, toying with the strip of skin exposed between Derek’s shirt and sweatpants. 

“What do you think you’ll do with your degree after college?” Derek asked, body arching away from Stiles’ wandering digits, his hand catching at Stiles to intertwine their fingers.

“Uh?! I don’t know… worry about how to pay back my student loans? Find a job to tide me over until I can find a Master’s program I like? Die of sexual frustration?” Stiles answered, gritting his teeth and sitting back on his heels, legs straddling Derek’s waist. He left their hands laced together, since it felt nice and he didn’t want this to be a fight, but he was also kind of tired of blue balls. 

“You have student loans? I thought you had a scholarship?” Derek responded, removing his hands from Stiles’ and resting them on Stiles waist. He looked so confused and concerned, it was almost touching. Unfortunately for Little Stiles, it was the wrong type of touching. 

“Seriously? That’s what you got from that?! Was Thanksgiving a dream, Derek? Is it actually October and I’m in a parallel universe? What is going on with you? Did you change your mind or was the blow job unsatisfactory or what? Use your words!” Stiles started to get up from Derek’s lap, ready to just go have a wank in the shower when Derek’s hands stilled him. They weren’t gripping him, Stiles could have easily kept moving, but the smallest noise of protest had accompanied them and that held Stiles in his place more than the hands that had slip up to his ribs. 

“Stiles…” Derek said, slightly admonishing, as if Stiles should have already picked up on the game already. 

“Yes, Derek?” If Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, it was only what was right and called for in the situation. It also effectively trapped Derek’s hands under his own. 

“I’m sorry. Look, if you haven’t noticed, I have some hang ups about sex. I don’t do relationships. I’ve never been with someone and had an endgame in mind. So I’m a little apprehensive, okay? I don’t want this to become only about sex. I want us to get to know each other on another level. I want to talk to you and know your hopes and dreams and problems and everything. Not as an alpha, but as your boyfriend…maybe as your mate.”

“We can talk outside of sex. There’s 24 hours in a day and I’ll have to stop at some point. Why can’t we enjoy the sex and you can ask those deep, penetrative questions after some deep, penetrative boning?” Stiles pleaded as he let his body fall forward, burying his head into Derek’s neck as he unfolded his arms to lay loosely on either side of their bodies. Derek stayed quiet for a minute, hands rubbing small, comforting lines up and down Stiles’ sides. 

“I didn’t know you had student loans. How bad are they?” Derek asked quietly, hands unceasing in their movements. 

“I dunno, like twenty k or something. Not too bad. My scholarship barely covers my books, it wasn’t a full ride or anything. It helps, but it’s nothing compared to what I have to borrow for classes.” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shoulder, submitting to the fact that this makeout session was o-v-e-r. 

“Are you going to have to take out loans for your masters?” Derek asked, kissing the side of Stiles’ neck and resting his hands on Stiles hipbones, thumbs pressing into the groove that lead to his groin. Stiles felt like this was inordinately unfair to tease him like this. If Derek didn’t want to have sex he should probably stop revving Stiles up. 

“Probably. What’s another 40 to 50k in a career path that barely makes that much a year? I love ramen noodles. OH… oh and that, I love that.” Derek, who had been kissing his neck, apparently decided he was bored with that and now was nibbling and sucking on his ear lobe which made Stiles’ knees feel like they were liquefying. Stiles got to enjoy the sensation, his brain losing the train of the conversation as Derek worked open his button and fly so he could push down Stiles pants to get more purchase on his hips. 

“You know, even if we don’t mate, I could help you out with that. I could give you some money or help you pay for an apartment or something. You don’t have to eat the cheap ramen; you can go to the Asian markets and get the 3 dollar bowls if you want.” Derek offered softly, lips brushing over the cup of his ear. Stiles huffed out a small laugh before turning to try and catch Derek’s mouth in a kiss. 

“What are you going to do when you grow up, Der? Be Bruce Wayne?” Stiles smiled after he said it, imagining Derek in a porny Batman get up. Derek kissed him deep and filthy, rolling his hips up so Stiles could feel that he was getting hard between them. _This_ was what turned him on?!

“I’m actually in real estate.” Derek answered after he finished the kiss, latching on to the underside of Stiles’ jaw. 

“What?” Stiles was shocked enough to sit up, looking at Derek like he’d grown two heads because he couldn’t have possible just heard “REAL ESTATE”. Derek looked up at him kind of confused, his eyebrows doing that thing where they spoke for him. 

“I repeat, WHAT?” 

“I’m in real estate. I’ve been doing it for like…. Three years? It’s great. I basically set my own hours, I don’t have to keep funneling money off the insurance from the fire. I like it. It’s kind of fun.” Derek replied, lifting himself onto an elbow so he could pull Stiles back down to him, his teeth nipping at Stiles’ collarbone while Stiles tried to wrap his head around Derek being in sales. 

“How come nobody knows this about you?” He asked, pushing Derek to lay back down so he could look him in the eye. 

“Scott knows. Erica and Boyd know. Who do you think helped them figure out the first-time homebuyers loan and got them that great deal on their home? I mean, it’s not a secret really.” Derek replied, looking up at Stiles like he didn’t see what the big deal was. Derek Hale had an actual paying job outside of being pack alpha. He did walk-throughs with people looking for affordable ranch styles and reminds them that paint color is easily changeable, but lot size in this market isn’t. 

“I’m sorry, dude. My mind is kind of blown right now.” Stiles said after several minutes of silence. 

“Is it a problem that I work?” Derek asked. 

“No! No, I just… never imagined you doing _that_ for work.”

“It’s an honest living, Stiles. It’s got a flexible schedule and it’s competitive enough to keep my interest. Plus, I get an intimate knowledge of my territory, I get to see whose moving in and out and I can try and get a basic feel for if they’re a threat to the pack of not.” Derek explained, like it was the obvious choice profession for him.

“I know, just… real estate.”

“You’re starting to hurt my feelings a little bit, Stiles. What the fuck would you have me do for a living?”

“I dunno. Underwear model? Assassin? Cop?”

“I have enough violence in my life, Stiles. I don’t want to invite any more in to stay. Besides, I don’t like strangers touching me.”

“Glad I’m not a stranger?” Stiles quipped, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Hmm…” Derek pursed his lip, not really responding. Stiles watched him cock his head like he was listening to something in the distance. “Melissa’s coming. We can finish this conversation later.”

Derek shifted Stiles off of him and into the couch as he gracefully extricated himself from under him. Stiles watched him walk away with a pang of regret. He didn’t mean to put his foot in his mouth again, but seriously…. _real estate_.

\---

“So have you boys thought about what you’re going to do about Christmas?” Melissa asked, watching them across the kitchen table as she sipped the coffee Stiles had made for her. Stiles side-eyed Derek at the question, because he’d just been planning on ordering everything through amazon and getting it delivered directly to the recipients. Derek looked as wide-eyed as him. 

“Uh…I think we’re going to have the Sheriff up for dinner and to spend the night, but that’s all I’ve got planned. Why? Do you think I should invite the rest of the pack?” Derek answered, sounding a bit thrown by the question. To his credit, Stiles could see that Melissa was using her patented “Mom knows the secrets you aren’t saying” look. Stiles really didn’t want it to be turned on him. 

“Are you going to decorate at all? Will you take pictures? Are you going to make a proper meal?” she rapid-fired the questions at Derek, who looked more disconcerted with every one of them. 

“Uh…” Okay, this had gone in long enough, it was time for Stiles to step in. 

“Melissa, you know me. I wouldn’t let poor Derek mess up our first Christmas together. You should’ve seen us on Thanksgiving! We pulled out all the damn stops! And it was just me and him! I don’t think you need to worry, there will be holiday appropriate dress, paraphernalia, and photographic evidence to last our lifetimes. You can even come up with Dad if you like!” 

Melissa regarded him for a moment before finishing off her cup of coffee. She stood up abruptly. 

“Okay, Stiles. You convinced me that you’ll revise whatever half-assed scheme you two had concocted in order to have a proper holiday. Derek, can I speak with you a moment alone?” she asked, turning back to Derek who had begun to look relieved by not being the center of her attention. Now he looked fearful again and shot a look at Stiles first before agreeing. 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll make myself scarce-ish.” Stiles walked upstairs and grabbed the iPod and his ear buds, making a great show of putting them in his ears near the loft’s half wall and then sitting on the bed to start pretending to be listening to music. He wasn’t an idiot; he wasn’t going to lose out on a chance to snoop. 

“So Derek.” Melissa started, her voice carrying up to the loft well. 

“Melissa.” Stiles settled back to lay against the pillows, waiting for whatever Momma McCall was about to dish out.

“I keep hearing down the wire that you’re trying to act like you’re not head-over-heels for Stiles.”

“That may be some people’s view of it. Really, I’m just trying to see if we function as a pair outside of the pack. It’s important to the pack balance that we don’t walk into this fighting, drawing lines in the sand and so forth.”

“I think that’s great. But what’s with the withholding sex from him?”

“Uh… I… I want it to be special.” Stiles grinned, because Derek sounded a little bashful when he said it and it made Stiles heart swell a couple sizes. 

“Oh Derek, you know Stiles. The first time will be full of flounders and fumbles. It’ll most likely be fast and dirty. He’s not a blushing virgin, he’s had sex before. He’s at the point where sex isn’t special with _anyone_ until you’re with someone for a while and you’ve gotten all the nervous energy out of your system. Besides, he’s been in love with you since he was seventeen. Do you know how many times I had to listen to him “count the ways” over you when he was on pain meds? Too many, Derek, too many. So stop torturing the boy.” Stiles was blushing so hard, he was sure they’d see the tell-tale rosy glow from downstairs. 

“What?” Derek sounded so lost and confused. Had Derek really never realized how much Stiles felt for him?

“From what I understand, it’s worse when he’s drunk. All the wants to do is talk about you.” The shuffling of clothes could be heard below him as the two moved around the first floor. Stiles tried to pay attention, but he could also vividly remember Isaac’s voice in the background one evening saying _‘Oh god, we can’t do shots with Stiles. I don’t want to hear about how wonderful Derek is until he passes out.’_

“But what if I’m not the best for him?” Heart failure. That’s what a slow ache in the center of Stiles’ chest really signifies, right? 

“You are. it’s nice that you’re worried that you might not be, but you are. Now go get Stiles, I think I need to hit the road if I’m going to make it home. You boys owe me a weekend when this is all over.” 

Stiles listened as Derek’s heavy footsteps crossed the cabin and climbed the stairs. He hastily picked some pop track to listen to, cringing when ABBA came blaring out of the earbuds. He pulled them from his ears in haste to get away from the awful music. Derek was smirking at him from the foot of the bed by the time he’d turned off the tune. 

“Seriously, Stiles?” Derek was watching him put the iPod back on the side table and stand up. 

“I hit the wrong button.” Stiles said lamely, smoothing down his clothes self-consciously.

“Uh huh. If that’s the story you want to go with. All I’m saying it….” Derek approached him around the corner of the bed, making Stiles back up until he hit the corner of the table, jostling the lamp. He made an exaggerated gesture to look behind Stiles at the iPod now lying quietly on the table. “Werewolf. Hearing.”

With that Derek turned and walked back downstairs without a backwards glance. He’d still been smiling when he turned so Stiles didn’t think he was in trouble for listening in, but to be fair, you could never tell with a wolf. Cursing himself at not being more devious, Stiles followed Derek downstairs so he could say goodbye to Melissa who was watching both of them with unconcealed amusement. 

“Listen, before I go, I downloaded this off the internet for you guys. It was featured in the New York Times. I think you’ll find it very interesting.” She took a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it over to Derek, who quirked a brow at her before shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. 

“Thanks, we’ll check it out.” Stiles answered for the both of them, swooping in to get himself a giant, enveloping Momma McCall hug before Derek could gently herd her out the door. She wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders and hugged him fiercely. 

“Go easy on him, Stiles. He’ll get there.” She whispered before drawing back to kiss him on the cheek. She turned to Derek and hugged him without any prompting, resulting in a touched, but confused look towards Stiles from the man encased in Melissa’s surprisingly strong arms. She seemed to whisper something to him as well, but Stiles didn’t get to hear that part. When she pulled out of the hug, he noticed Derek was a little pink around the ears. 

“Okay boys. Remember, pictures, paraphernalia, food. If I don’t see evidence of all three on Instagram by the 26th of December, I’m driving back up here by New Year’s to kick your butts.” She said most of this to Stiles, since Derek as far as he knew didn’t use Instagram. Stiles nodded and smiled, following her out the door and watching her get in her car and drive off. 

“Hey Der” he spoke up, heart wrenching a little at seeing his favorite faux parent leave. 

“Hm?” Derek answered from somewhere near, but behind him. 

“I wonder how far we can walk out here now. I mean, with Scott we could get past the porch, and we didn’t try anything after Allison and Isaac. I wonder if the house gave us any more leash? What do you think? Want to try it?” He turned to look over his shoulder and saw Derek perusing the pieces of paper that Melissa had given him. He didn’t appear to really be paying attention to Stiles. 

“Derek?” Stiles repeated, waiting to see if he’d get a reply. 

“Hm? What?” Derek asked, snapping to attention this time. Stiles sighed and walked over to him, grabbing the article out of his hand. He scanned over it and noticed it was a list of questions that was supposed to help you fall for someone. 

“Derek, we aren’t strangers. I already love you. Why would we need this?” Stiles asked, motioning to the piece of paper. 

“I think they’re great. They kind of get at what I’ve been trying to accomplish. I think it would really nice if we could do these together.” Derek answered, his voice a little softer and Stiles' heart melting quicker for it. Stiles sighed and looked at the paper again, noting that there were three tiers of questions and then special instructions for the end. He looked back up at Derek who was watching him hopefully. 

“Oh, alright. But we’re going to walk around and figure out the magical boundaries while we do it, if that’s okay? It’s really nice being outside, even if it is chilly.” 

The smile that lit up Derek’s face was so bright that Stiles could only look at it for a second before answering shyly back with his own. That look of excitement over just finding out some random details about Stiles’ psyche was overwhelming. Turning, he held his hand back out behind him until he felt Derek slide his fingers into the spaces between Stiles’ own and then he began walking, holding the paper up in front of his face so he could start to read the first question. A tug at his hand stilled his voice, and he looked over his shoulder in confusion at Derek, who had started to look timid again. 

“There’s a trail, actually, that starts by the pantry door on the side of the house. It kind of runs along the property line and goes down to a pond if you’d like to take that instead of just walking the driveway?” Stiles looked past him towards the trailhead that was actually quite visible at the edge of the side yard. He smiled and nodded, letting Derek turn them and lead the way as he looked at the questions again. 

“Okay, question one: Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” Stiles immediately tried thinking of his own answer, wondering who he’d like to have as his dinner guest. 

“Alive or dead?” Derek asked, pausing so he could walk next to Stiles as they started down the trail. 

“It doesn’t say. I guess either?” Stiles glanced back down at the paper to make sure he hadn’t missed the instructions. 

“Dead? My mom. I miss her and I could sure use some guidance over being an Alpha. She was the best. What about you?” Derek asked, swinging their hands gently between them as they walked. 

“Hm. Mom, too. Mine, of course, not yours, though I’m sure yours is as great as you say. I think it would be great to hear what she had to say about this whole supernatural world.” Stiles let it hang or a second, thinking of what little he could remember about his mom. “What about alive?”

“Probably one of the Obama’s. I like the work they’ve done with community programs and services. I think it would be beneficial to me from a pack alpha perspective, but it would also just be a genuinely interesting conversation. It’s sometimes hard to picture the road between reality and goals. What about you?”

“Man, that’s a cool answer. Uh, honestly the only other person I can think of is dead still. It’d be Joseph Campbell.”

“Who’s that?”

“He was a mythologist that specialized in comparative mythologies and religions. I think it would be great to talk to someone with so much knowledge. I bet he knew about the supernatural and he could tell me what was bunk and what was worth knowing. His family probably has their own codex somewhere.” 

They continued on through some more of the questions, each answering and explaining their answers. They even made it all the way down to the pond Derek had mentioned, which looked more like a small lake to Stiles, nestled between two hills. 

“So we can walk at least a mile out from the cabin, that’s nice.” Derek said, breaking the silence between them as they stood at the shore staring out at the dark blue water. There was a small boat dock about 80 feet to their right, but Stiles didn’t see any evidence of a boat around it. 

“We should build a fire out here and go through the rest of these questions.” 

“What about food?” Derek questioned, not bothering to look at him.

“Well, you’re going to have to go get firewood anyway, you might as well bring back from cheese, crackers, and lunch meat.” Stiles replied impishly, leaning over to bump his shoulder against Derek's.

“Why should I go get all of it?" Derek asked, glancing at Stiles' face.

“Cause you’re faster and stronger and you want to take care of me?” Stiles replied, smiling and blinking up with his best ‘you love me’ expression. 

“I feel like this is setting a sad precedent, I’m not your pack mule.” Derek grumbled, turning and stomping back up the path. 

“I’ll hand feed you grapes while you rest your sore, alpha muscles!” Stiles called out behind him, grinning as he started looking for the perfect place to start building a fire ring. 

\----

“So last question, you ready, Sourwolf?” Stiles asked, looking down at the paper and enjoying the duel warmth of the fire in front of him and the warm body behind him. They’d already devastated the finger-food dinner that Derek had brought back with him from the cabin and had spent the majority of the evening enjoying the fire’s reflection on the lake as they snuggled and methodically went through each question on the list. 

Stiles felt pretty good about the exercise. As skeptical as he’d been when he’d first scanned the piece of paper, he couldn’t deny that Derek had been able to surprise him with some of his answers and he felt like he knew Derek a little better for hearing them. The thrum of Derek’s voice vibrating softly against his back as the moon hung above them was mesmerizing. It filled Stiles with a calm he didn’t know if he’d felt since he was a small child in his mother’s arms. 

“Ready.” Derek replied behind him, breaking his reverie. 

“Okay. Last question. Share a personal problem and ask your partner’s advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen. Hm…” They sat in companionable silence, each searching for their own answer to the question. As the questions had progressed, Stiles found that he and Derek had to pause a lot before answering and that their answers had been more honest because of it. It was not a given that they’d take a moment of reflection before talking about the newest topic. 

“So Boyd and Erica have been talking a lot about wanting to start a family soon.” Derek started, quietly. “I think it’s great. I fully support them. But… and I guess this is the crux… born werewolves take a lot more attention and training to control their shift. When they’re younger it’s almost impossible. We don’t usually integrate into regular public schools until we’re teens because of the trouble found in controlling our shift when we're kids.”

“Okay, yeah I can see that. But what’s your problem then?”

“I really want the pack to have a communal space again. I want to rebuild Hale house. I want to have a place for the pack to teach their children. I know right now we’re only talking about one or two children, but if we got together and decided to have kids, or if Scott and Kira had children? I mean, it’s probably about five years off before everyone starts procreating and by that time we need to have a child care plan in place. I’d like if we had a space where they could all grow together and we could educate them. The problem is, this is very traditional werewolf thinking. I know this. Communal setting for the pack is just a step away from having a pack commune on the land with everyone having sleeping huts and family dinner every night in the main house. I’m afraid the idea will offend Scott whose fairly progressive and likes each member to feel autonomous. Which is great, I think our pack needs that also, but when born wolves or hybrids get brought into the mix, we need a safe space for them to grow into themselves. I’m not sure a public school would be the best thing for them.” Derek finished, the reflected worry in his voice touching Stiles. Stiles could almost see the vision Derek seemed to want to create. In his mind, of course, it was probably more closely related the Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters than what the reality would be, but still... it was a nice thought. 

“So are you scared because you think Scott will feel you’re trying to take over too much of the pack with your born wolf traditions or are you afraid to talk to him because you know if he agrees, you’ll have to take more of an active Alpha role then what you’re currently seeking?” Stiles asked. 

“I guess a little of both. I’m not exactly the best Alpha, Stiles. I have a pretty wide learning curve some days. And I like that Scott is strong enough to take chances and trust his pack to come to him if there are problems instead of hovering. Growing up, I always had the pack around me and we were constantly part of everyone’s drama whether we wanted to be or not. Even if you were the only child of your parents, you always had so many other kids to act as surrogate siblings. I don’t want our pack to miss out on that, but you know… it’s pretty old world.”

“No, Derek, it’s really nice. When my mom died, Scott was all I had besides my dad. I know he’s not my real brother, but he helped me through all that. I can see how having a pack around would help kids. I think it’s a nice idea. I don’t think Scott would balk at it. I mean, like you said, he’s pretty progressive and he trusts his pack. If they want to send their kids to the pack school they can or if they don’t want to they can find other means. Scott’s biggest pack agenda is to make sure everyone knows that they have a choice. He may be their alpha, but he’s not their god. They are allowed to think for themselves and do their own thing as long as it’s not detrimental to the pack. That kind of thinking would feed into this feeling you seem to be having for all of us taking care of the next generation of pack by keeping them safe until they have the tools to do it themselves.”

“So I should bring it up?” Derek asked, his arms tightening around Stiles. Stiles could feel the warm, ghost of Derek’s lips rest against the cold the edge of his ear. He let himself enjoy the feeling, pressing back into the warmth of Derek’s body before responding. 

“Yeah, probably sooner than later. Knowing Erica and Boyd they’ll have one halfway here by the time we get out of the cabin.” Stiles joked. Derek chuckled behind him and hummed an agreement. They stared at the fire in silence, enjoying the way the other felt and the calm of the evening around them. 

“What about you? Anything you need advice on?” Derek asked quietly, barely louder than the crackling of the fire. 

“Hm? No, not really.” Stiles replied, smiling. “The biggest issue I had, I solved last year before summer break.” 

“Oh, what was that?”

“Whether I wanted to leave the pack or not.” Stiles replied calmly. He felt Derek jerk behind him at the admission, but he didn’t immediately say anything. 

“Why did you decide to stay?” Derek asked, his body gone slightly rigid behind Stiles. 

“Because the pack is ultimately my family. I didn’t come into this world with a whole bunch of other people in my life and since I’ve been included in the pack, I’ve felt more connected than I ever did before. Plus, I honestly weighed the option of leaving. That’s why I attend college three hours away. I wanted to be far enough out from the pack that I could fuck up a little and try a normal human existence for a while to see if it was really something I wanted. And to be fair, there were parts of it that were nice. I got to pretend I was someone else and experiment and try new things without the eyes of my nearest and dearest watching me. That freedom to fuck up was wonderful! But, then I thought about what if while I was getting drunk or stoned and fucking some stranger, one of you got hurt? What if my dad died? What if I was off playing human and I was the one that could’ve done something to prevent it? It just… in the end, it wasn’t worth it. I am part of a pack and I wanted to stay part of the pack for better or worse.” Stiles finished, by pulling away from Derek’s embrace and turning around to face him. “So if you think I’m not serious about the pack, then you’re wrong. If you think I’m not serious about you, you’re wrong. I’ve thought about this. I’m not making any spur-of-the-moment decisions with any of this.”

Derek looked at him and smiled, lowering his eyes, turning his head and baring his neck to Stiles. The gesture wasn’t lost to Stiles and he grinned while he bent over and kissed the spot between the neck and shoulder where most mated pairs marked each other. He felt Derek cup the back of his head in his hand and nudge him forward again, Stiles acquiescing and peppering the area in wet, open mouth kisses. He only let his teeth graze the skin lightly, not yet biting down, and earning himself a whine from Derek. Stiles kissed up Derek’s neck and bit gently over his jaw before stopping at his lips. 

“We still have the last part to do. We have to stare into each other’s eyes for four minutes.” He said, looking at Derek’s closed eyes and his open, trusting expression. 

“Okay” Derek said, swallowing thickly and opening his eyes. Stiles felt like on a good day he could get lost looking at Derek’s multi-hued irises. Tonight, with the firelight highlighting the greys and greens against his dark lashes, he felt like he had stepped into the depths of eternity. They sat and just looked at each other, calmly, memorizing, and then the strangest thing happened. Stiles felt like the connection between them was a tangible thing, he could feel it growing and encompassing them, could feel the strings intertwining to create ropes which anchored them to each other. It was a subtle thing for how powerful it felt, but he felt the nervous energy in his soul calm the longer he looked at Derek. He didn’t need to be afraid of Derek running or backing out and he didn’t need to seal-the-deal with this man to keep him; he already had him. Derek was already his and he was Derek’s and now they just had to work out the fine details. It was freeing to know that it was going to work out between them. 

Stiles didn’t know if it had been four minutes or if it had been ten, when he lowered his eyes to Derek’s lips before closing them completely and leaning forward for a kiss. It was the softest kiss Stiles had ever given and it was without expectation. He let his dry lips slowly smooth over Derek’s, wetting them with gentle presses of his tongue. Derek responded, his head tilting so they could slot their mouths together and let their tongue tips meet briefly before retreating. They kept at it until the fire had died to embers and Stiles was having trouble feeling some of his extremities. Then they stood and brushed off this clothes, used water from the lake to put out the fire, grabbed their trash and started the trek back to the cabin where they’d surely have to build another fire after so much time away. It was like walking home in the midst of a very good dream, cocooned from reality in its otherworldly perfection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. I smell big things for the next chapter. Christmas is a very special time for the boys and I have been waiting to write this chapter for FOUR FREAKING CHAPTERS. 
> 
> OH, and the article I mentioned it a real deal thing. You can look at it [ here](http://www.nytimes.com/2015/01/11/fashion/no-37-big-wedding-or-small.html?_r=0).
> 
> Next update February 12, 2016 by midnight central time. 
> 
> In the meantime, come visit me on [tumblr](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com) and shout prompts or headcanons at me.


	6. In and In.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas time is full of surprising presents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, you may notice I added an end chapter count. Whooo... It's taken me 6 chapters to figure out how many I'll need to end this thing properly and I'm hoping that that count stays official. 
> 
> This chapter is a chapter I've been excited to write for... four chapters now or so. I hope you guys enjoy it also. 
> 
> Not beta'd so please feel free to msg me here or on [tumblr](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com). Or just let me know what you think, how you feel, what you want to see. No promises but I do take it into consideration.

*****Derek’s POV*****  
DECEMBER

What are two things a forty-five year old trophy wife and Stiles Stilinski have in common? 1). They can organize an event. 2.) They can shop like it’s their life’s purpose. Derek saw plenty of evidence to back up those thoughts in the week and a half leading up to Christmas. Stiles was in full Christmas mode. He made Derek find and cut an adequate Christmas tree while he bought every ridiculous robot, cat, super hero, and wolf ornament he could find online. He made sure there were fake boughs for the fireplace, holly and mistletoe for the doorway, reindeer and snowmen to decorate almost all of the available flat surfaces, and so. Much. Christmas. Music. Derek thought he was going to go insane from the sheer magnitude of versions available for each and every Christmas carol. Now it was Christmas Eve and Stiles’ father was due any minute. Derek sat drinking egg nog by the fire, watching Stiles take out his third pan of Christmas cookies from the oven. 

“Now seriously, as soon as he gets here I want you to start warming up the ham. The other stuff will only take about an hour to cook, but if that ham isn’t done when the rest of it is then we’re going to be stuck twiddling our thumbs while the sides ruin!” Stiles instructed, pushing the perfect tree shaped sugar cookies onto the cooling rack. He was getting a little manic at the thought of his father coming up and it showed itself in him turning into a bossy housewife. 

“I hear you, Stiles. I’ll put it in the second I hear his car turn onto the drive.” Derek answered, smirking at the frantic look on Stiles face as he took in the number of finished projects in front of him in order to assuage himself that he wasn’t behind. Derek walked in front of him and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into his chest. His sounds of protest were quickly muffled by Derek’s cotton covered pec as Derek forced him to rest his head against him. 

“Stop, Derek. I’ve got things to do!” Stiles squawked against his shoulder, not yet returning the hug. Derek chuckled at the huffing sound Stiles was making while he ineffectually tried to dislodge himself from Derek’s embrace. 

“I know. So you better hug me or I’ll never let you go.” Derek teased, settling his arms more firmly around Stiles’ shoulders, burying his face into the younger man’s hair. With a sigh of one who is not understood by mere mortals, Stiles raised his arms and wrapped them around Derek’s waist, squeezing briefly before trying to back out of the hug. 

“Derek, come on! I need to do things!” Stiles complained, wrapping his arms back around Derek’s waist loosely when Derek didn’t immediately let him go. 

“In a minute.” Derek replied, kissing Stiles cheek and then humming in contentment. Stiles sighed and gave in, wrapping his arms firmly around Derek and pressing himself into the hug. He then rubbed his cheek against Derek’s neck lightly before laying his head on Derek’s shoulder. The moment stretched, calm beginning to settle around them. 

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Stiles asked quietly, voice mumbled against Derek’s shoulder. 

“I think he’ll be very surprised and touched. I’m pretty sure he would’ve been fine with us just ordering a pizza and hanging out.” Derek answered, relishing the calm of the moment. Stiles snorted against him. He pulled back and looked up at Derek’s face. 

“Yeah right, Melissa would kill me.” Derek hummed his agreement and Stiles leaned forward, resting his forehead against Derek’s with closed eyes. They stood like that for another minute or two before Derek did indeed hear the old police cruiser turn onto the gravel driveway. He sighed and kissed Stiles lips softly before pulling away. 

“Time to put in the ham.” He said in answer to Stiles confused look. Stiles eye widened, panic returning to his face. 

“DEREK! Move, move, move! I’ve got to change!” Stiles cried, bolting out of the kitchen and up the stairs to change out of his sweats into something more festive. Derek chuckled and grabbed the ham out of the fridge, putting it in the oven and lowering the temperature slightly. Then he made his way to the front porch to greet the Sheriff. The cruiser made its way into the open area that was their driveway and parked, the Sheriff cutting the engine and clambering out of the driver’s side. He held up a hand in greeting to Derek and popped the trunk. 

\---

Apparently, Cora had sent some coffee beans from South America to the Sheriff to bring along with him for Christmas. Also, apparently, the Sheriff thought that getting his son and possible future son-in-law a little drunk so that he himself could get basically blasted was a very good idea indeed. After the food had been cleared and the gifts had been placed under the tree for the next morning, the Sheriff took Derek aside while Stiles fixed them all more drinks, and gave him a wobbly, but penetrating look. 

“Have you two sorted out your messes yet?” he asked, breathe heavy with the smell of whiskey. Derek took in a deep breath and thought about it. 

“Not all of them. But I think we’re getting the biggest parts cleared out.” He answered, watching Stiles cut limes and dance a little to the old timey Christmas music being played by the iPod. He smiled as he watched, forgetting for a moment that the Sheriff had been talking to him. 

“Good. I don’t want to deal with Stiles broken heart at the end of this. If he comes home crying for any reason, I’m going to shoot you. I won’t use wolfsbane bullets, but I’ll make the shots count.” The Sheriff finished as he poked him in the chest, giving him a long look until Derek nodded. Tottering back to the couch, he accepted his drink from Stiles and sat back to watch the fire. 

“Here you go” Stiles said walking over to where Derek was standing and handing him a special-blended, werewolf potent, alcoholic beverage. Derek smiled and sipped his drink, enjoying the blurred, fuzzy feeling he had on the edges of his awareness from the drink. 

“So why was my Dad looking at you like he was threatening you?” Stiles asked after a moment, sipping his own amber-colored libation. 

“Because he was. He cares about you and doesn’t want me to break your heart.” Derek replied, looking over to where the Sheriff’s eyes were definitely drawing down to half mast, the quiet crackling of the fire and the whiskey in his system lulling him to sleep. 

“You wouldn’t be doing it on purpose.” Stiles said quietly, eyes also on his father. Derek turned and looked at Stiles for a moment after he said it. Stiles turned and met his eyes and Derek could tell he was considering him, a small smile on his lips. 

“What?” Derek asked. 

“I know you, you know? You’re trying to do what you think it best for everyone in the situation. If you broke my heart, I know it’s because you truly believe that us being together is not a good idea. Either we’d break each other or we’d hurt the pack. I’m not saying if you feel that way I agree with you. I think we’re peanut butter and jelly, a classic pairing for the ages, but there’s only so long I’ll fight to prove it to you.” Stiles looked at him seriously while he spoke and Derek felt a strange fear at the idea of losing Stiles from his life. Now that he’d had him day in and day out for two months, it felt like he was a part of Derek’s natural order. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle dislodging that. 

“I wouldn’t push you away like that.” Derek said quietly, looking down into his drink. 

“Not now?” Derek felt Stiles smooth his hand over his cheek, cupping his jaw. There was a lilt of teasing in Stiles voice when he asked it and Derek turned his head, let his lips brush over the pulse point at the base of Stiles thumb, resting there for a moment before he looked up and met his gaze, smiling back. 

“Not now.” Stiles smile lit up his face, even as he drew back his hand. A loud snore emanated from the couch interrupting their lingering look only marginally. 

“Let’s grab his drink, tip him over, and give him a blanket.” Stiles said, grabbing his phone and quickly snapping a picture of his father leaned back against the couch, mouth wide open and snoring. Derek smiled and shook his head, walking over to grab the precariously tipped glass out of the Sheriff’s hand before putting it into the sink with the rest of the evening’s dinner plates. He decided with as warm and fuzzy as he felt, they could leave the dishes for tomorrow. He didn’t want to disrupt the lassitude that had fallen over all of them with the brusque clanging of ceramic and aluminum. 

Stiles had slowly woken his father enough to convince him to lay down on the couch, grabbing the blanket off the back and shaking it out over his recumbent form by the time Derek turned back. It looked like a practiced dance between the two of them. Derek knew Stiles felt himself responsible for his dad, but now he briefly considered exactly how long and how well he’d actually been taking care of him. 

“Christmas tomorrow.” The Sheriff slurred sleepily, long breaths working him back towards slumber. He’d said it as a statement with no context. 

“Yep, dad. I’ll see you bright and early in the morning. Love you.” Stiles said quietly as he tucked the blanket up around the Sheriff’s shoulders. 

“Love you too, son.” 

Derek and Stiles stood and watched the Sheriff fall back asleep, taking in the even rise and fall of his chest for a moment, before the soft snores started up again, making them feel less affectionate towards the sleeping man with every increase in volume. 

“Thank god you don’t snore” Stiles joked, turning and downing the rest of his cocktail before putting the empty glass in the sink. 

“Ditto.” Derek replied, finishing his and handing his glass to Stiles so he could add his to the mix of dirty dishes. 

“Let’s get to bed. Don’t want to miss Santa Claus.” Stiles quipped with a wink. 

“Be up in a minute.” Stiles nodded and turned, heading towards the bedroom, while Derek stood and watched him leave. Derek waited until he heard Stiles in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, and then he went into the pantry and grabbed a medium, wrapped box out of from behind the potato bin. He’d had a hell of a time hiding it from Stiles, but he hoped that it proved worth it tomorrow morning. Grabbing up some wood to put on the fire before heading up as a way to conceal his activities should Stiles look over the halfway to watch him, Derek quickly placed the present at the back of their tree before nonchalantly adding wood to the fire. He had a hard time keeping himself steady, his body was tremoring with excitement at the thought of Stiles opening his present tomorrow morning. 

By the time he was making his way upstairs, Stiles had just finished washing up and was walking towards the bed in pajama pants and a t-shirt. 

“Hey, I’m going to get a glass of water. I’ll probably need it with the amount I’ve had to drink tonight. Do you want any?” he asked as Derek headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

“Hm? Yeah. Sure.” Derek agreed, watching as Stiles as he turned the corner to head back down. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and then drug on a pair of boxer briefs. This was as close to sleeping clothed as he was likely to get, even with Stiles’ father downstairs snoring. He just hated the restrictive feeling of garments on his body while he slept. Padding over to the bed, he slipped under the covers on his side just as Stiles walked back up with two glasses of water in his hand. 

“Get lost?” Derek joked, taking his glass of water and enjoying a sip of the cool liquid. 

“Nah, I was just setting one out for my dad also. He will definitely be thirsty when he wakes up.” Stiles joked, slipping under the covers and curling up against Derek’s side. Derek smiled and reached behind him to cut off the lights, plunging them into the familiar darkness of the cabin. He settled down next to Stiles and let one of his arms curl around his hip to keep him close. He felt his eyes getting heavier as the inebriant in his system hastened sleep upon him. Derek quickly buried his nose in Stiles’ hair and breathed deeply, letting the smell pull him over the precipice into unconsciousness. 

\---

Derek woke up abruptly, a feeling of intense pleasure running through his muscles and making him feel warmer than usual. A wet, enveloping heat was sliding up and down over his cock, which was hard enough to hammer nails. Opening his eyes, he caught the dark gleam of Stiles looking up at him as he worked his mouth over Derek’s prick. Derek felt his breath come out in gasps, and he opened his mouth to say something, whether to tell Stiles to stop or not he wasn’t sure, when Stiles drew his mouth away to look at Derek and hold a finger over his lips as a sign to stay quiet, giving a significant head jerk towards the main floor of the cabin where Derek could hear the Sheriff still snoring away in ignorant bliss of what his son was doing upstairs. 

Instead of speaking, Derek reached down for Stiles, dragging him up his body and attacking him with a filthy kiss. He ran his hand over the boy’s naked shoulder and back, body shuddering in delighted surprise when he found that Stiles had divested himself of all his clothes and not just his top. He let his fingers keep wandering, trailing past the end of Stiles spine and down into the crack between his cheeks until he found the tight furl of his asshole. When Derek brushed his finger over the dry hole, pressing gently against the resisting muscle, Stiles broke their kiss with a gasp, pushing back slightly, his fingers digging into the meat of Derek’s deltoids. 

“Where did you hide the lube, Stiles?” Derek whispered into the space between them, gently teasing Stiles’ hole by pressing the tip of his finger against the rim in a steady rhythm without actually breaching him dry. 

“Fuck, Derek…” Stiles breathed, his body gently rocking back against Derek’s finger, the hard, wet tip of his cock sliding in a small circular pool of precum against Derek’s abs. Before he answered, Stiles pushed himself up to kiss Derek again, his body lowered so he could slide their bodies together in a promising, sinuous thrust. 

“It’s under the bed, on your side.” Stiles finally answered, his voice barely registering over the fire downstairs. Derek had almost forgotten what they were talking about and why they were being so quiet, the slow drag of their cocks next to each other claiming most of his attention. He swallowed thickly, removing his hands from Stiles’ body with effort, so that Stiles could climb off of him and back towards the center of the bed. When Stiles was clear, he turned and reached beneath the bed, his hands finding the tub of lube almost immediately. When he turned back, Stiles was looking at him over his shoulder with a smile on his face, hips canted up while he waited. Derek felt his brain melt, his eyes taking in every inch of pale, dotted flesh on display for him from nape to toe. He wanted to taste every inch of it before he died. 

“Going to keep staring, or are we finally going to do this thing?” Stiles asked grinning, wiggling his hips a little to get Derek’s attention. Derek grinned back, smoothing his hands up Stiles thighs and over his back as he moved to cover Stiles body with his before claiming a kiss. 

“You’re going to have to be quiet, you know” Derek teased when the kiss broke, his teeth nipping affectionately at Stiles’ shoulder. He placed the lube next to Stiles’ hip and then worked his way back down Stiles’ body, kissing and biting all over his shoulders and back as he went. His hands preceded his mouth, cupping Stiles’ ass cheeks to kneed and separate the globes in preparation for Derek’s tongue. 

“Oh god, Derek” Stiles breathed above him, his hips lifting and pushing his ass higher in presentation for his lover. Derek’s wolf was howling inside of him, pawing happily at the ground, ready for Derek to claim the young man beneath him. Derek nosed the sensitive skin around Stiles’ hole, placing gentle teasing kisses close before scratching his stubbled cheek over where his lips had been. He could feel Stiles beginning to fidget beneath him, wanting Derek to do more, but unable to bring voice to it for fear of waking the Sheriff and ruining their fun. 

“Is this what you want, Stiles?” Derek asked, barely loud enough to be heard before he closed his lips around Stiles’ furl, sucking lightly at the skin before lightly tracing his tongue around the rim. He heard Stiles gasp loudly above him, the pillow not enough to completely smother the sound. Pausing, Derek listened towards downstairs, waiting a beat to see if the Sheriff’s breathing or heartbeat had changed. When he was sure the Sheriff was still well and truly out, he repeated the action again with his tongue, lazily circling the rim while his hands smoothed over Stiles hip to hold him in place. 

The smell of Stiles here was pure, making his heart race in his chest and his own hips grind lazy circles against the sheets. He dipped his tongue against the opening, stifling his own moan at how easily the channel began to loosen for him. He pushed with his tongue again, feeling more slip in between the soft clench as Stiles tried to writhe against Derek’s hold and press his body farther back against Derek’s mouth. As soon as Derek could get his entire tongue into the entrance, he lapped greedily, fucking the muscle in and out of Stiles’ spit slick tunnel while Stiles’ moaned distressingly loud above him. Downstairs the Sheriff snorted loudly, heartbeat rising towards consciousness causing Derek to withdraw his mouth quickly and move up Stiles body, a hand going to cover the open mouth of his lover before even a small sound of protest could be uttered. 

“Shhhhhh , sh sh sh” he soothed against Stiles neck, his hand moving towards the tub of lube even while he mouthed at Stiles’ throat. “You almost woke up your dad. You gotta be quiet, baby, or we’re going to have to stop. You want to be able to keep going, right?” 

Derek felt Stiles nod against his hand, even as his lube coated fingers pressed and teased at Stiles sloppy, wet asshole. Derek didn’t know what possessed him to continue talking, but maybe it was the desperate whimpers Stiles was making against his hand, or the warm, velvet feeling of Stiles’ muscles pulling at fingers every time he withdrew them before pushing them back in again slowly. 

“Good. I don’t know if I’d be able to stop now. Fuck, Stiles, your body feels so hungry for me. Mine’s ready for yours too. Can you reach down and feel how fucking hard I am for you?” Derek asked, shifting his hips so that the hand Stiles stuck out blindly behind him could find his dripping prick. Stiles immediately beginning to stroke what he could reach of him, his wrist twisting and causing his hand to bump the sensitive underside of Derek’s mushroom tip. Derek was three fingers deep, fucking him to the last knuckle and gently searching around for his prostate. He knew he’d found it when Stiles jerked in surprise, his mouth opening against the inside of Derek’s hand, allowing Derek to slip two fingers in against his tongue. Stiles got the hint easily and began sucking the digits, his tongue swirling and coating the skin in saliva. Derek had to stifle a growl at how good it felt, how warm and wet, remembering vividly that a half hour ago that same mouth had been pleasuring his cock. 

“You ready, baby?” Derek asked, removing his hand from Stiles’ hole and gathering some more lube to spread over his cock. Stiles nodded, spreading his legs and drawing them up towards his chest along the mattress. Derek sat back on his heels and pressed the wide head of his cock against Stiles’ loosened hole. It opened for him easily, already trying to grip and suck at the end of him, trying to draw him in further. He was never so happy that Stiles’ wasn’t a virgin as then. 

“Come on, Derek. Please…” Stiles whined softly, his body rocking back to fuck itself gently over the tip of him. “I need you inside me so bad.” 

Derek growled low, causing Stiles to stop his movement and let Derek hover over him, pressing in slowly. Stiles was tight, his muscles gripping Derek’s shaft hard, pulling him in steadily. He let himself just sink down, allowing Stiles’ body to accept everything it could take. When he bottomed out, his balls and stomach pressing tightly against Stiles trembling body, he lowered himself so he could mouth and whisper at Stiles’ ear. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Stiles. You feel like your body was made for mine, made to take my cock. Made for my mouth to taste. Made for me. How do you feel, baby? Do I feel good?” Derek gasped, his arms worming their way beneath Stiles so he could keep the man pressed tightly against him. 

“Derek, I need you to start moving or I’m going to go crazy.” Stiles gritted out, punctuating his statement by grinding his hips backwards. 

“Oh fuck, Stiles…” Derek breathed, his hips mimicking the slow, circular rhythm, dragging his cock almost completely out before pushing it back in. Derek pulled back to look between them, fascinated by the sight of his cock being engulfed by Stiles’ wet heat again and again. Stiles, for his part, wasn’t a lazy bottom. He kept moving his body, working in a counter rhythm to Derek’s, panting out small gasps and sharp intakes of pleasure underneath him. 

Derek was starting to get desperate, his thrusts coming harder and faster, his orgasm beginning to pull at him. He bent down and licked the sweat from between Stiles’ shoulder blades, his mouth working over the muscles until his nose was buried in the side of Stiles’ neck. 

“I’m getting close. What do you need to cum, baby?” Derek asked, his teeth biting gently into the sensitive skin behind Stiles’ ear. 

“Just…ah… keep doing that. I’m almost there. I’m so close, Der” Stiles gasped, his hand snaking underneath his body. Derek kept going, his hips pumping and burying his cock deep into Stiles’ body on every thrust, his teeth and lips worrying at the skin on Stiles’ neck. 

“I wanna feel you cum around my cock so bad, Stiles. I’m going to mark you as mine, inside and out.” Derek laid his blunt human teeth into Stiles’ shoulder, biting down hard enough to bruise the soft muscle in his mouth. Stiles’ body jerked, his rim tightening almost painfully around Derek’s cock as he came apart beneath him. Letting the flesh fall from his mouth, Derek picked up his rhythm, pumping himself in quick, shallow jabs as he began emptying himself into Stiles’ relaxing body. When he was finished, he let himself fall slowly on top of Stiles, rolling them to the side together so he could leave his cock inside of him, enjoying the warm heat against his overly sensitive cock. Stiles smiled and ground back onto the still half-hard prick, making Derek hiss through his teeth at how good it felt, but how it was too much sensation. He stilled Stiles hips and kissed his bruising shoulder. 

“Why the fuck weren’t we doing that from day one?” Stiles asked quietly, stretching his arms and legs out while still letting his body cuddle closer. 

“It’s better for the wait.” Derek mumbled, still kissing and licking at Stiles salty skin. 

“Mmm, it was pretty fucking great.” Stiles agreed, settling against Derek and closing his eyes. Derek looked at him, took in the satisfied smile on his face and the smell of happiness, and then kissed his cheek softly. Derek’s wolf felt content inside his chest and he found himself wrapping his arms around his lover and falling asleep still pressed inside of him. 

\---

The next morning, Derek woke because a shuffling Sheriff was trying to quietly navigate their bedroom into the one bathroom in the cabin. Derek raised his head groggily and watched, noticing the Sheriff’s wince each time he bumped into the wall. Stiles slept oblivious to all this in Derek’s arms, body molded against Derek’s. Derek wondered if the room smelled as heavily of sex to the Sheriff as it did to him. Blushing slightly, Derek slowly extricated himself from under the covers to put on his underwear. He padded downstairs and found the coffee Cora had sent in the kitchen and he started a pot to share. He was just beginning to warm up some sausage and toast for the Sheriff when he heard the bathroom flush upstairs. Just as Derek was swiping a liberal amount of butter onto the warmed bread the Sheriff’s ambling figure came down the hall looking a little more awake than he had minutes previously, but still half asleep to Derek. 

“Morning Sheriff” Derek greeted, putting the plate of food and coffee in front of Stiles’ father. The Sheriff grunted at him, sitting down at the counter and sipping the coffee first before digging into the food. Derek passed him to head back upstairs for a shower. 

When he got upstairs, he saw that Stiles was already awake, hand poised to start the shower spray as he spotted Derek. His smiles was blinding, and the marks that Derek left on his body made all the blood rush south even as Derek’s wolf panted and howled inside of him in approval. Stiles was now staring appreciatively at Derek’s crotch, watching the bulge plumping up under the cotton boxer-briefs. He licked his lips before catching Derek’s eyes again, smile still stretching his pink, wet lips. 

“Why don’t you join me?” Stiles asked, dropping his pajama bottoms in a pool at his feet and stepping out. He reached around the shower wall and turned the nozzle to start the water before looking back at Derek. His own cock was flushed and jutting from his body, making Derek’s mouth water with the need to taste. Derek spared a pointed glance downstairs, wondering how Stiles’ would react to knowing his father was definitely awake this time. 

“It’s up to you, but I’m going to get into this shower. You could use one as well. We both have the evidence still on us…” Stiles let his words trail off, watching Derek watch him. He trailed his hand down his body where Derek could see dried cum sticking to the skin of his lean stomach. He let his hand keep sliding down, bypassing his cock to cup his balls, lightly massaging each in turn before he turned and walked under the spray of water, a sigh of satisfaction huffing from his lips. Derek pushed at his underwear and let them fall to the floor before he was following Stiles into the hot spray. He buried his face immediately into his neck, his lips pulling back so he could set his teeth against Stiles’ skin. He felt more than heard Stiles’ quick intake of breath as his hands slid down Stiles’ wet hips. He pulled him back so Derek could feel him flush against his body. 

“I wish your dad was still asleep,” Derek started, relishing Stiles’ hum of agreement through the skin of his throat. “I wish we had more time.” 

Derek reached out and grabbed the soap, sliding the bar over Stiles’ skin and using the other to massage the suds in. Stiles leaned back against Derek’s chest, body as pliant as possible while remaining standing. His head lolled back onto Derek’s shoulder, giving him more access to his neck and shoulder. Derek’s prick slid lightly against the crack of Stiles’ ass as his hands moved over Stiles’ chest, stomach, arms. Derek’s hand encircled Stiles’ hard, flushed cock, the grip soft and teasing as Derek covered it in soap and causing Stiles’ to moan deliciously into the steam. When Stiles got tired of the teasing, he turned in Derek’s grip and planted his lips against Derek’s, smearing soap between them. Derek caught the kiss eagerly, letting his hands now run up and down the broad, lightly muscled planes of Stiles’ back and then down onto the meaty curves of his ass, trailing foam behind them. 

“We could be quick?” Stiles suggested when Derek’s fingers were softly caressing his pleasantly sore entrance. 

“It wouldn’t be enough. I’ve got to wreck you. I want to take you apart. Let’s wait.” Derek responded, moving his fingers away and walking Stiles and himself more directly into the water’s spray. Stiles for once didn’t argue. He turned and washed off the soap, ignoring his hair. Derek did the same, watching as Stiles exited the shower before him and wishing that they could finish what they had been starting. 

\---

After he’d dressed, Derek found Stiles and his father downstairs on the couch enjoying coffee and laughing over something. Grabbing a cup for himself, he joined them, sitting himself on the arm of the sofa. 

“So!” the Sheriff started, clapping his hands together and grinning. “Is it present time?” 

“Gee, Dad. You’re like a kid on Christmas.” Stiles’ snarked as he sipped his cup of coffee. 

“It is Christmas, son.” The Sheriff said reasonably, eyeing the presents out of the corner of his eye. 

“Aren’t you a little old to be this excited about meaningless possessions? Aren’t Derek and I’s company enough? You aren’t a kid, ya know.” 

“You can’t prove that.” The Sheriff joked with a smile . 

“Haha, whatever pops. I’m the baby in this cabin. That means I get to open a gift first, right?” Stiles joked, getting up and approaching the tree. 

“No way! Age before beauty.” The Sheriff called out, watching his son look at gift tags to determine the recipients. 

“Derek, be the tie breaker.” Stiles asked, standing next to the tree with his arms akimbo. Both men looked at him expectantly, waiting for his decision. 

“Go ahead and let your dad have the first one. He is our guest after all.” Derek replied, smirking at Stiles’ fake look of betrayal. He huffed and grabbed a gift for his father from under the tree, handing it over and then sitting down next to Derek as his dad started ripping into the brightly colored paper. Derek reached down an patted his shoulder, but Stiles grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers, kissing the top of Derek’s as he watched his father’s glee at getting a new fitness watch with heartrate monitor. 

They methodically worked through the presents, each exclaiming in delight or confusion at some of the gifts they were given. There were only a couple left under the tree after a short period of time. One was from Lydia and the Sheriff stopped them from opening it. 

“She said that you two should open it alone and that I would probably be mentally scarred if I were present during its unwrapping. So please guys, let’s let that one cool until I’m out of the driveway.” The Sheriff explained as Stiles eyed the black and silver package curiously. To deter Stiles curiosity, the Sheriff reached under the tree and grabbed a package for Derek. He passed it over and Derek was surprised at the weight. 

“Ooo yay! That’s my gift to you, Der!” Stiles exclaimed, sitting between him and the Sheriff and watching him expectantly. Derek’s fingers minutely trembled as he slowly tore away the paper and used a claw to snap the tape on the sides of the box. Inside were three collections of Pablo Neruda poetry: _Twenty Love Poems and A Song of Despair_ , _Intimacies: Poems of Love_ , and _Memorial de Isla Negra_.

“Two of them are bilingual versions and one of them is only in Spanish. I… I hope they’re okay.” Stiles stammered, watching Derek’s reaction. Derek himself didn’t know what his face looked like in that moment he was so surprised by the gift. 

“You know I speak Spanish?” Derek asked, looking up from the books to smile at Stiles, teasing him. 

“Well actually, I didn’t, but Scott did! And, I’ve read some Neruda in college and I really like him. I was hoping that was something we could share….” Stiles said, shyness entering his voice as he spoke his motives aloud. Derek continued smiling at him, loving that he wanted more bonding to occur between them. Stiles had surprised him with the gift. 

“Well, grab your gift from me. I believe we’ll see somewhat of a theme.” Derek said, breaking the warm tension between them. Stiles grinned at him and dove under the tree for the rectangle box bearing his name. He clawed through the paper greedily, ripping the box around the pieces of tape instead of neatly severing them, and then flung the top of the box way from him onto the ground. He stared down at the inside of the box. 

“WHERE DID YOU GET THIS!?” Stiles exclaimed loudly, wrapping his hands reverently around the edges of a very battered, very old book. The Sheriff was looking around Stiles shoulder in curiosity, reading the title, brows drawing in as he comprehended the words. 

“I contacted Deaton who got me in touch with the Hawaii pack leader. It seems that Joseph Campbell was a big deal emissary for them for years. He left this book to the pack, but they apparently don’t hold it in very high esteem. I get the feeling that the pack leader is a bit of a troglodyte do there wasn’t a whole lot of value placed on the book. But when it got here I gave it a look over and it seems like a very, very complete index of supernatural creatures and their culture. It at least gives the important basics.” Derek explained as Stiles opened the book and flipped through its pages, a look of wonder plastered onto his face. 

“This is **amazing** , Derek.” Stiles breathed, eyes not straying from the page in front of him. 

“Oh, good God Derek. I guess you finally found a way to forestall sex with my son longer, NOT THAT I AM COMPLAINING! But he’ll never set down that book until he has it memorized.” The Sheriff commented around a smile. Stiles flipped him off over his shoulder, but didn’t look up from the book. Derek felt a blush flare up in his cheeks and was glad that the Sheriff seemed content to tease Stiles mor than him. The Sheriff then reached around him gently, and closed the book onto his hand. 

“Stiles, it’s still Christmas and there is still a gift under the tree for Derek.” Stiles eyes snapped from the closed book to his fathers, a wicked gleam lighting them. He nodded and set the book down next to the couch before retrieving the last medium sized package and bringing it over to Derek. 

“This is from the pack.” He explained when Derek looked at the blank “From:” tag on the card. He placed the box in his lap and divested the box of it’s paper. When he opened it, he saw a pile of work gloves. Taking each pair out and counting, there were eleven pairs. He looked at the Sheriff and Stiles with a quirk of his head, confused at the gift. At the bottom was a brown, legal envelope. Opening it, he found a note, house plans, and a home depot gift card. He read the note first. 

_**Derek,**_

_**I’m sure you’re looking at all these items and forming a loose idea of what your Christmas gift from the pack is in your head. Let me go ahead and tell you everything. Stiles told me about your feelings about rebuilding Hale House as a communal space for the pack. Please don’t be mad that he spoke with me about it before you could because we are still going to need to talk about it, but in general I believe rebuilding Hale House is a great idea. Even if we don’t use it for your dream, I think that you deserve to have your family’s house rebuilt and hopefully, you’ll be able to share that space with your mate in time.**_

_**Each pack member has agreed to donate at least two weeks of effort throughout the summer in order to help you rebuild the house. This may be cut into weekends or random days off, but I hope with our help we can have your house rebuilt and livable by next winter. That’s what the gloves are, a symbol of the pack’s commitment to helping you rebuild your home.**_

**_Also, you’ll notice some house plans. These are as close to the original Hale House plans that I could find. If you want something different then we’ll need to get different plans, but this, I thought, was a good start._**

**_Last is a gift card from the Sheriff and my mom to help you buy materials for the house. It’s not a lot, but they wanted to you to know that you’re family. They include you in their own packs just as I include you in mine. You deserve nice things, Derek. This Christmas, the pack wanted you to know it._**

**_Sincerely,  
Scott._**

Derek felt his eyes blur slightly as he read through the note. He looked at the house plans and the gift card, then over to the box full of work gloves. His pack wanted to rebuild his childhood home with him. His pack wanted him in their future. Stiles had helped make that a possibility and he felt overwhelmed by how much that meant to him. 

“Der?...Is it… Is it alright?” Stiles asked, his hand reaching out to rest on Derek’s knee. Derek lifted his eyes to Stiles and nodded, feeling a few tears leak through. He stood and pulled Stiles and his father into a tight hug, feeling the concern rolling from the humans at his reaction. 

“Thank you guys. Thank you so much. It… it means a lot of me.” Derek was finally able to say as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. The Sheriff patted him on the back a few times before extricating himself from the group hug. 

“You’re welcome, Derek. Just let me know when you’re ready to get started and we’ll have you in a home by next October, no doubt about it.” 

Derek nodded, still holding Stiles at his side, unable to let him go just yet while the feeling of gratitude and love still washed through him. Stiles hand on his hip felt like an anchor and kept him from falling over into gross blubbering over the thoughtfulness of his pack…and his family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEX! They put the D in the A finally! Holla holla holla holla!! LOL. 
> 
> So, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Let me know on here or on tumblr. There I am [SkinSharpenedTeeth](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Next update will be February 19th, 2016 before midnight central time. 
> 
> Also, I'm thinking of starting another story soon. It's going to be an A/B/O, fake relationship chapter fic. Feel free to send me any suggestions on things you'd like to see in it. :)


	7. Hit and Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek have some sex and something shifts in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PORN. This is pretty much a lot of porn in this chapter. There's some plotty plot-ness towards the end. I'm so sorry this was ALMOST late. I normally don't wait until the last minute, but this chapter and I had to have a serious come to Jesus before I could write it. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own, it's completely unbeta'd. Please feel free to let me know if you see something that I missed in the comments OR come see me on [tumblr. ](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> **UPDATE: So I went back and edited this. Most of it stands the way I had it, but especially the second part has been added to and edited. I'm so sorry you guys got such a rough version before. I hope this is clearer.**

*****Stiles’ POV*****  
DECEMBER

As soon as Stiles’ dad was safely seen to the end of the drive way, Stiles turned on Derek in a rush of lips and limbs. His momentum brought them crashing against the hallway wall, Stiles wrapping his legs around Derek’s hips to hoist himself up causing Derek to grab Stiles’ ass reflexively. Stiles hummed his approval against Derek’s lips, his arms wrapping around Derek’s neck while their tongues tagged and teased at each other. 

“Take me apart, Derek” Stiles gasped out when Derek trailed from his mouth to begin kissing and nibbling at his jaw. Derek chuckled darkly, his hands flexing against the back of Stiles’ thighs and pressing their bodies more tightly against one another. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Derek promised, pushing himself from against the wall and walking with Stiles still hanging from the front of him. Stiles would be a lying liar if he said that getting carried upstairs by Derek didn’t make his balls tighten with anticipation of the myriad of ways Derek could use his body without stress or strain. With those thoughts spurring him on, Stiles started tugging Derek’s shirt up and letting his nails scratch over the firm muscles of his back even as he bit gently at the muscles of Derek’s neck. Derek hissed in surprise, his back arching against Stiles’ and giving Stiles’ growing hard-on delicious friction. He felt Derek move his hands then, one snaking around his waist even at the other cupped the back of his neck. The thick, strong fingers threaded themselves through Stiles’ short hair and then tightened, tugging enough to cause a dull bite of pain and pressure that made his body wish to be laid bare in submission for Derek. 

“I thought I was supposed to be taking you apart?” Derek teased as one of Stiles’ hands moved over his chest, nails making short-lived red trails over his skin. Stiles grinned and kissed Derek again, nipping affectionately at his bottom lip while his nail scraped lightly over Derek’s nipple causing him to growl into their kiss, his pace quickening towards the bed since they’d cleared the last of the steps leading to the bedroom. Stiles felt momentarily weightless as Derek and he dropped onto the bed, their bodies bouncing slightly upon impact. 

Seemingly as soon as they were horizontal, Derek was smoothing Stiles’ shirt up his body and over his head to be thrown off onto the floor. With Stiles’ legs still tight around his waist, Derek scooted them so that Stiles was lying closer to the middle of the bed. Then Derek smoothed his hands down Stiles’ thighs to unhook them so he could put space between their bodies. Stiles whined at the loss of heat and weight against him, but when Derek quickly kissed his way down his chest to his stomach where he gave wet, open mouthed kisses to the jumping muscles over the waist of Stiles’ sweats the whines that came out of Stiles’ throat were for an entirely different reason. 

Derek drew his mouth away and nuzzled at Stiles’ obvious hard on tinting the front of his sweatpants. He let his hand smooth over the turgid length over the material, his face pressing lower as he mouthed at Stiles’ balls through the cloth, soaking it in saliva. His other hand started pulling down one side of Stiles’ pants, exposing the crest of his hipbone and the valley that lead to his groin. Stiles watched as Derek moved from his balls to the newly exposed skin, the stubble on his cheek catching lightly at the curls of his pubis. Derek didn’t kiss so much as lap at the crease between Stiles groin and leg, his chin dragging the material down further. Derek’s hand still cupped his hard on, a solid weight for Stiles' to roll his hips up and in to. 

“Fffucck Derek” Stiles moaned when Derek finally managed to drag the material down enough to allow his cock to bounce forward and rest heavy against his stomach. Derek’s hands circled around Stiles’ hips and continued to push the material down past the globes of his ass. Derek’s mouth was peppering his hips and thighs with kisses as he pulled the pants completely off, giving Stiles freedom to rest each thigh over Derek’s shoulders. Seemingly getting the point, Derek licked Stiles’ cock from root to tip. He let his lips rest over the head of Stiles’ dripping prick, lapping softly against the slit where Stiles’ was oozing precum freely. Stiles felt like he was losing his mind, watching Derek’s reddened lips slide obscenely over his cock head and the light, warm caresses of his tongue pulling more and more blood from his brain and into his dick. 

Derek’s hands smoothed over the backs of Stiles’ thighs as he began to take more of Stiles’ shaft into his mouth. He moaned around the solid flesh, causing Stiles’ back to arch off the bed as he desperately tried to keep his hips still. When he felt the first lube-slick finger circle his asshole, he lost his battle and his hips thrust quickly up into Derek’s mouth. Stiles opened his mouth to apologize, but Derek’s response was to grab Stiles’ hand and place it on the back of his head before he repeated his previous action, circling Stiles’ hole with a lone finger. Stiles took it as an invitation and when Derek pressed the tip of that wandering finger into his pucker and he thrust up again into Derek’s mouth, this time holding Derek’s hair to keep his head still as he bumped against the back of Derek’s throat. The first time Derek’s nose buried itself in Stiles’ pubes, Derek had just added a third finger into Stiles and was pumping them relentlessly. Stiles had lost all though outside of the wet clutch of Derek’s mouth and the teasing fullness of Derek’s fingers. Feeling Derek’s throat muscles start to spasm around his cock was almost too much, causing Stiles’ grip on Derek’s hair to reflexively tighten and loosen as his hips continued to stutter against the mouth entrapping him. 

When Derek backed off, a string of saliva connected Stiles’ cock to his lips and he looked wrecked. His hair was mussed from where Stiles had been using it as a hand hold, his lips were red and swollen from this ministrations on Stiles’ cock, and his face was flushed and wet from tears and spit. Stiles normally didn’t find this attractive when he saw it in porns, but knowing it was him that made Derek look so debauched was almost as good as the head he’d just received. He reached out and cupped Derek’s cheek, sliding his thumb through the wet, sticky mess on his chin. Derek grinned and ducked down slightly to nip at the pad of his thumb. The hand that was still three finger’s deep in him had stilled momentarily while Derek was getting his breath back, but they started up again now that he was staring at Stiles like he was well-won prey. The thrusts now were shallow and slow, Derek’s fingers sliding in and out of Stiles with ease and making Stiles’ writhe with want to be further filled and harder fucked. 

“Think you’re ready?” Derek asked, holding Stiles eye contact. Stiles groaned and nodded, legs falling way from Derek’s shoulders. Derek quickly threw off his tank top and sweats, throwing them onto the floor somewhere near Stiles. As Derek moved up his body, his hips moved into the space where his shoulders had been previously. Derek’s mouth licked and bit at Stiles’ muscles while his hard-on rubbed lewdly against Stiles taint as Derek rutted sinuously against him. His sliding thrusts continued even after burying his nose against Stiles’ neck. 

“God, Stiles, I don’t think you understand what you do to me. You smell like you need to be marked. Your body under mine feels like I need to fucking claim you. I want to smell only me on your skin. I want to see my marks on your body. I want the others to know without having to ask. I want strangers to be able to tell that you’re fucking _mine_.” The last word was growled out and with a start, Stiles realized he could feel the pin-prick of Derek’s claws against his ribs and Derek’s long canines scraping against his jugular. Stiles turned his head and looked at Derek’s face, wolfed out and menacing in front of his. Flitting his eyes between Derek’s lips and his eyes, Stiles brought his face in closer to capture Derek’s top lip between his own, inviting Derek to kiss him in this form. He knew Derek and his wolf would be one right now, without clear distinction between what one wanted or the other. Derek responded by turning the kiss filthy, fucking his tongue in and out of Stiles’ mouth while he continued to rub himself off between their bodies. Stiles moaned into the kiss, letting the situation overwhelm rational thought so his senses and instincts were as close to making his decisions as Derek’s were. 

Derek’s palms smoothed up Stiles’ ribs and pushed his arms above his head, bringing his wrists to press against each other as Derek curled his hands over Stiles’ to show him that he needed to hold the edge of the mattress. Satisfied with Stiles’ grip, Derek pulled back to spread his thighs wide and sit on his heels, pulling Stiles forward onto his lap. He positioned himself at Stiles’ entrance, grabbing more lube and spreading it over his length before pushing forward, letting his weight help slide him deep into Stiles’ waiting body. Stiles groaned, his arms aching to let go of the mattress edge. Panting, he looked up into Derek’s face, waiting for him to begin. 

“Offer yourself to me, Stiles. Offer yourself to my wolf.” Derek commanded, holding Stiles’ hip still to hold their connection even as his body strained to start working, the muscles quivering against the backs of Stiles’ thighs. Stiles lay in confusion for a moment before he realized what Derek meant. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms above his head, then he tucked his chin against his collar and while maintaining eye contact with Derek, he rolled his head and offered his throat to the beast. Derek didn’t move immediately and fear began to coil in Stiles’ belly the longer he hovered over him and stared. Closing his eyes to break the eye contact, Stiles lifted his chin further, nose sliding over the skin of the inside of his bicep and his neck arching obscenely towards the waiting wolf. Derek answered by pulling back abruptly before slamming his cock back into Stiles’, causing a wet, loud slap to echo into the room around them. Stiles stayed still, even though he wanted to buck back and fuck himself on the hard length throbbing inside of him and stretching his rim. 

Derek’s face lowered to Stiles’ neck, a low growl rumbling from his throat as he turned his head and rubbed his stubbled cheek over the skin, causing Stiles to whimper at the delicious sting against his skin. Derek’s hands moved, hooking Stiles’ knees over his elbows and changing the angle of their connection. Stiles gasped and Derek finally, _finally_ began to move his hips. He started with short, sweet rolls of his hips, making Stiles arch against him and begin to writhe. When he felt Derek’s teeth over his throat, however, Stiles stilled, and Derek pulled his hips back and began slamming into his body, balls slapping against Stiles’ ass and Derek’s cock brushing over his prostate upon every inward piston of his hips. 

Stiles couldn’t see, he could only feel. The lights behind his eyes were white and voided everything and his body sung for Derek’s when his orgasm rushed through him. When he was able to come back to himself, Derek’s teeth were no longer at his throat, but he was still gently rocking his cock in and out of Stiles’ hole. Stiles’ hips had been lowered so that Derek wasn’t pushing against his prostate directly. Derek’s mouth was roaming his chest, licking up the small splatters of cum that had landed between them on Stiles’ skin. Stiles brought his arms down from above his head and grabbed the sides of Derek’s face, stopping him from his tongue bath to pull him up so Stiles could kiss him. His hips rocked shallowly against Derek’s continued thrusts while he licked into Derek’s mouth to find tastes of himself on his tongue. Derek had shifted back to human while Stiles was cumming his brains out and Stiles found that he almost missed the danger of navigating around the large, sharp canines. 

“What do you need me to do to cum?” Stiles gasped out as Derek ground his cock inside of him, hips circling as he held them tightly together 

“I already did once.” Derek answered, mouth hovering over Stiles’. 

“But we’re still fucking?” Stiles asked, looking between them to see the flex and release of Derek’s muscles where he continued to work himself in and out of Stiles’ hole. 

“I’m going to fucking fill you up, Stiles. It’s going to be leaking out from around my cock before we stop.” Derek ground out. The thought made Stiles breath catch from want, even as Derek backed off and grabbed his leg to guide him onto his side. Derek’s cock slipped out from between them while Derek positioned Stiles how he wanted. He turned Stiles to his right side with his right leg straight and hi left bent up near his stomach. He positioned himself against and sank once more into Stiles’ heat. Stiles liked this new position. He liked Derek hovering over his body to kiss him, reaching down to tug softly at Stiles half hard cock while he pounded into him from behind, each thrust a punctuation. He liked that is required exactly zero effort from him while he recovered from round one in the middle of round two. Derek, however, was relentless. 

Halfway through round two, Derek started to wolf out again, his thrusts turning brutal and pushing Stiles onto his belly. 

“Ah, ah, AH” Stiles cried out, the pleasure starting to build low in his belly even as the punishing snap of Derek’s hips edged towards painful. 

“Stiles” Derek growled out, pulling Stiles onto his knees. His hands spread Stiles ass cheeks as far apart as they could go, letting him sink in as deep as their bodies could allow. Stiles bit his lip and whimpered, his hand jacking his cock even as he rocked back to brace himself for every sharp hit of Derek’s cock on his prostate. Derek thrusts were turning erratic, their rhythm faltering but fast. Derek draped himself over Stiles back, his hips still working away while Stiles got closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“I want you to cum on my dick, Stiles. Whose are you?” Derek breathed, fingertips bruising into Stiles hips as Derek’s wolf teeth brushed over his skin while he talked. Stiles almost couldn’t answer, his orgasm starting to push through his body and tighten his aching rim around Derek’s relentless cock. 

“I’m yours, Der. F-F-Fucckk meee I’m yours” He cried, spilling over onto his knuckles and the bed spread. Derek gave three last hard pushes before he growled and stilled over Stiles, the pulsing of his cock the only thing still moving between them. Derek stayed planted inside of Stiles while they caught their breath, but Stiles could feel sleep pulling him closer to the edge. Slowly Derek pulled out, Stiles’ muscles aching with want as well as relief to be able to tighten back up. Stiles stayed on his belly, grabbing his pillow to shove under his head as he settled in to enjoy his double afterglow. He didn’t even care that he was in the wet spot. Derek pressed his body against his side, arm pulling them close together as he snuggled and snuffled at Stiles neck. 

“I’m going to take such good care of you.” He rumbled, his shifted form still dominating his body. Stiles hummed in sleepy agreement as Derek’s claws gently scraped over his hip. Then he felt Derek pull away and he heard the thunk of his feet hitting the floor as his body left the bed. Stiles listened as the feet headed towards the stairs. 

“Get me some water since you’re going down. Thank you, Derek.” Stiles called out softly, not sure he could move a single muscle after the fucking he’d just received. Sleep pulled at him, hastened him to fall into its warm embrace. He thought he was already half in a dream when he heard the slide of the glass door going out to the patio. 

\---

When Stiles woke up it was dark outside and he was freezing cold. He opened his eyes, confused why Derek didn’t put a cover over him or at least share his body heat. He turned his body and threw an arm out to locate Derek so he could snuggle up against him. His hands met cold sheets, much too cold for Derek to just be in the bathroom. He opened his eyes to look around the room. He was met with pitch black darkness. Stiles strained his ears to see if he could hear Derek shuffling around downstairs, but there he was met with silence. The house was completely still. There wasn’t the crackle of the fire downstairs or the rustle of another person existing in the space. Stiles turned back to his night stand and scrabbled to find his phone in the near perfect darkness. When he found it, he turned on the screen of his phone and sat up. Pointing the light outwards, he scanned the room slowly. Nothing seemed to have changed; even Derek’s clothes were still lying on the floor next to the bed. Beginning to feel worried and not a little freaked out, he slipped off the bed and searched out his sweatpants in the dull blue light of his phone’s screen. When he located them, he pulled them over his thighs and then found his shirt and put it on as well. Holding his phone in front of him, he slowly and quietly walked downstairs. He knew better than to call out into the darkness. If scary movies hadn’t taught him how to survive to the end, his constant battle with the supernatural had definitely given him a few pointers to live by. 

Hugging the wall, Stiles made his way towards the kitchen, eyes and ears alert for signs of movement in the darkness that were not his own. Down in the main living area, the moonlight lit enough of the cabins interior for Stiles to feel safe turning off his phone screen. He turned the corner into the kitchen and carefully extracted a knife from the knife block. He felt it was better safe than sorry, even if he knew it was most likely going to be ineffective towards anything bigger or faster than him. Stiles regretted never getting self-defense lessons. He always regretted it exactly when he was preparing to lose a battle because he hadn’t gotten them. There was a pattern. 

Shrugging off his poorly made life choices, Stiles shifted his attention to the unknown threat at hand. He made his way over to the side door that lead to the woodpile and found it locked. He’d also checked the front door lock as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs and knew it to be locked as well. Making his way towards the sliding doors that lead onto the covered porch, he noted the cold, dead fireplace with wood stacked next to it. There was no way Derek in his right mind would have let that fire go out, it was too much of a bitch to start up. Gritting his teeth against the worry that fluttered behind his ribcage (the first stirrings of a panic he did not mean to fuel), he could already see that the door was partially opened, an inch gap letting cold air filter into the cabin. Grasping the handle of the door, he pulled it back as quietly as he could, hating the hiss of it rolling over its tracks while he was so wary of being loud. As soon as he stepped past the doorway, he spotted the black lumps on the outside porch. Looking around for any obvious predator, Stiles quickly walked to screen door that separated the porches and looked at the lumps. They were animal carcasses. 

The animal carcasses has been laid neatly next to each other and arranged by size. A squirrel, a rabbit, and a beaver lay cold and motionless next to one another on the porch. When Stiles turned to go back inside a loud, long howl rent through the air causing gooseflesh to immediately erupt over his body. Stiles had no way to calculate the distance with his human senses, but he knew it sound came from quite close without being in the field surrounding the cabin. Hurrying back through the glass doors, Stiles locked them and went to the couches in front of the cold fireplace clutching his knife in front of him with both hands. His breath was starting to come out faster as his eyes darted towards all the windows surrounding him, waiting to know from which one he would be attacked. 

“Derek, where the fuck are you?” Stiles asked the empty cabin after quiet minutes turned into almost an hour. If he was going to be attacked, it would have happened by now. The supernatural generally didn’t play with their food. Setting down his knife, Stiles withdrew his phone from his pocket and pulled up Derek’s contact. He would try calling Derek’s phone first. Maybe Derek simply went for a midnight run through the forest now that they had some tether on the leash. A ring emanated from somewhere upstairs, where Stiles knew Derek wasn’t, signaling that if Derek did go for a run then he most definitely left his phone at home. Sighing, he ended the call and pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around himself. His phone read 4:23 a.m. He knew he only needed to wait a couple hours until daybreak. He hoped Derek would show up between then and now, but instead the howling wolf started up again, further away and sounding as frustrated as Stiles felt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this porny interlude w/ added plot thickener! Where is Derek, y'all?
> 
> Comments makes my heart sing and so do new friends on [tumblr.](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com) Feel free to visit me either place!
> 
> Next Update: February 28th, 2016 by midnight central time.
> 
> ****UPDATE ON THE UPDATE**** So this next thing is going to be a double chapter update due to what's happening in the story. I'd love to say that it's going to be on time, but if I'm real honest, it's probably not going to get posted until Sunday, February 28th,2016. I will post it if i get it finished and edited before then, but as of right now...that's when it's looking like it'll be updated. I am SO SORRY. This is totally my main story, but this week just didn't allow a lot of extra time to write so I'm playing catch up. Thank you for your patience and understanding. I'm working on it as we speak!


	8. Find Me Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wolf courts his mate with gifts and a chase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter and the next take place at the same time from different perspectives. I hope you guys like it because this chapter was surprisingly hard to write! I did as much research as my free time would allow, but honestly, I'm pretty sure more knowledgeable folk than me will scoff at some of the stuff in this chapter. Please know that I tried! 
> 
> As always, no beta. It's just me. Feel free to msg me with any obvious mistakes that I missed (as I'm sure there are a few).

*****Derek’s POV*****  
DECEMBER/JANUARY

The wolf waited in the brush for his mate to wake and find his gifts. They’d been easy prey for him in this area with few large predators. They hadn’t expected him to jump out, his teeth and claws crushing them and ending their lives. He felt sure that his mate would appreciate them and their lives wouldn’t have been a waste. 

Panting in anticipation, the wolf’s breath fogged out from his slack jaw as he grinned and waited, eyes cast upward to look at the waning moon above him. He wasn’t let out very often; wasn’t allowed to lead in his shared existence with his human side. It felt good to be in full fur instead of the abominable half-shift between this form and his human shape. He could feel his human side in the back of his mind like a distant voice, trying to reason with him. What is human reason to a wolf? He was an alpha of his pack and a strong predator himself without them. He let the moon shine down on his black coat and luxuriated in the feeling of power his dual citizenship that nature afforded him. It had been too long, however, since he’d been allowed to lead and now he was reluctant to listen to the human within him. He didn’t want the man to overpower him. The wind that ruffled his top coat brought the scent of his den and his potential mate to him. He shut his eyes and let his nose paint the picture. 

His potential mate, the human called Stiles, was still in bed. He was still sleeping, covered in his human-self’s sweat, spunk, and saliva. His human-self had placed a mark upon the boy; a warning to other supernatural creatures that he was in the process of being claimed for mate. Then the human-self had asked the most extraordinary thing, he’d asked Stiles to offer himself to the wolf. What a beautiful sight that had been! The boy had laid back, his soft, vulnerable belly exposed and then he’d lifted his chin, inviting the wolf to his neck! The wolf had almost been able to push his human-self out of the way; had almost overpowered everything to go ahead and claim the boy as his mate! His human-self had resisted, however. He had pulled the wolf back and explained…there were steps… the wolf must court the human Stiles…the wolf must win his affection before he can place his own mark. Once they have both marked the boy, then they could go forward. Then they may claim his as their mate. But first, the wolf must do as all wolves do when they want to mate. He must convince his chosen with gifts and examples of strength. If his mate does not accept the gifts, then the wolf can try a second or third time. Both wolf and human must be approved. Both wolf and human together or the mating will not be complete. 

An uptick in the human Stiles heartbeat drew the wolf’s thoughts from the moon and what it would be to mate back towards the den. The wolf lowered himself into the tall grass and brush boundary between the forest and the clearing, his sable ears honed towards the sound of his intended’s breathing. He watched and listened to his potential mate move through the house. He hoped that he would come out so that the wolf could witness him through eyes not clouded by human weakness. He hoped that Stiles would see the gifts the wolf has left him. It’s cold enough to keep the meat from spoiling for a few hours yet, but it would be better to be eaten while some of the muscles in the bigger animals are still warm. He would have to dispose of this bounty and hunt for another offering if the human decided to stay inside. 

The loud whir of the sliding door alerted the wolf to his mate’s exact position more than the sight. It was dark in the closed off patio in the dead of night and there was no light in the house to outline his silhouette. Moments later the breeze brought a fresh wave of Stiles’ smell over the clearing to where the wolf waited. The smell was incredible and it made the wolf’s mouth water as he took in the subtle nuances from the wind. The human smelled so much like he was already theirs! Their scents were tangled with one another and had created something new and warm; foreign but familiar. 

The wolf watched, his heart hammering, as Stiles stood at the door leading out onto the porch. He paused, staring towards the gifts on the porch. Though the porch was dark, the bright paleness of his human Stiles’ skin could be made out in the dark. The wolf’s eyes darted from the animals to the human and back again, his breath coming out in excited huffs as he waited for the human to accept. He wanted to see the human Stiles smile and pick up the kills, take them back into the den. He wanted to hear the sounds of him feasting on these presents. The wolf could provide for the boy if necessary. The wolf would take care of him if they had pups. They would not go hungry, even in the winter when so many other animals struggled. The wolf waited for Stiles to understand. 

The moments drug on, Stiles unmoving in the patio staring towards the rapidly spoiling meat. His body posture tilted back towards the den, his hand unmoved to open the screen door onto the patio. The wolf whined, watching Stiles immobility. Why wasn’t he rejoicing and dragging the gifts into the den? Did he no longer want the wolf as his mate? 

_**He doesn’t understand!**_

A voice from the recesses of his psyche, from his human side, broke through while his panic and despair rose. A howl rose from the wolf’s throat, shattering the low din of the forest while he alerted his potential mate that he was out there and watching. He was waiting. 

_**He doesn’t understand.**_

The voice repeated, softer and sorrier than it had been the first time. The wolf watched in confused horror as the human Stiles turned and walked back into the house, leaving the meat untouched. The wolf whined again and watched, waited, hoped for his intended to change his mind. He waited until it was obvious the human had rejected his gift, finding it somehow unfit. Another lonely, frustrated howl lifted into the night air as the wolf accepted this reply to his first proposal of worthiness. Slinking up the decking, he silently removed each carcass from the porch. The squirrel and rabbit he ate quickly, hardly tasting their flesh. The beaver he buried, hoping another scavenger would not find it in case he was unsuccessful with another kill. 

_**He doesn’t know what it meant. Don’t lose hope. He will figure it out.**_

_But what if he doesn’t?_

_**He will. He is smart and resourceful. It is one of the reason’s we chose him.**_

_I will do better. I will provide more. He will understand._

_**Yes. He will.**_

\----

Hunting proved a worthy distraction for the wolf’s lingering despair over his potential mates rejection of the first gift. He prowled over game tracks, skipping over many smaller, much easier animals in favor of finding one large and worthy of his human Stiles. Miles passed under the steady tread of his paws, more than he was aware the magic would even allow, in search of a fit prize. (He wondered if his form had any effect on how far from the den he was allowed to travel or if Stiles could leave and cover this amount of territory as well. It was a worrisome thought.) He was two days and nights searching before he found a respectable beast to bestow upon his potential mate. So far out, however, coupled with the beast’s size, would make it impossible to transport home before the meat spoiled. So he stalked it, herding it slowly towards the cabin, using its inferior intellect and blind panic when faced with such a ferocious predator to move it steadily into place for a better kill. 

The wolf imagined herding it right into the clearing behind the den. He imagined his potential mate coming out on the porch to see what the commotion was about and spotting him, sleek and black in his fur, snapping and hobbling the beast. Then he imagined letting his potential mate see him make the killing blow, the crush of his jaw around the creature’s windpipe. He imagined the adoration and respect in his human Stiles’ eyes as he looked at the magnificent gift. He would drag the defeated beast to the porch, laying it at his intended mate’s feet. His human would be so impressed, would allow the wolf to scent his hands or chest in response. The wolf would leave for his next gift knowing that he was on the right track. The human needed to be shown the power of the wolf. He needed to see the eloquence and economy of his kill. The courting ritual demanded that his potential mate know how capable he was. 

The wolf dug his splayed paws deeper into the soft dirt as he sprang to snap at the beast’s flanks. The animal gave a scream of fright and tried to kick at him from behind as it jolted forward. It was getting tired of the wolf’s relentless drive away from its herd and territory. The wolf did not care and kept at it, pushing him to keep going as they drew nearer to his den where his potential mate waited for their return. Every time the beast turned to see if it could outrun the wolf back towards the lands they had left, the wolf would chase and slowly maneuver it back on track. He knew the animal could tell what he was doing and was frustrated, but didn’t know how to get out of the traps set by the wolf to keep it moving. 

_**Don’t kill this one in front of Stiles. Leave it as a gift. He is sensitive. He will appreciate the deed once it’s done but he doesn’t need to see it.**_

His human self was speaking to him again, whispering instruction on how best to woo their potential mate as if nature did not already dictate the terms of the courting. 

_Is he weak to be turned by the sight of blood?_

_**He is human. His strengths lie within the mind and heart. He has been taught to relate to all life. Trust me. He won’t want to see the death of this buck. He will appreciate the gift though.**_

_If you say so. You understand humans better than I. I will heed your advice._

\---

Again, the wolf waited in the cover of the weed choked tree line, watching the den of his potential mate. The afternoon sun was still shining over the clearing when he’d drug the large, warm buck carcass onto the porch, smearing it’s blood over the wooden planks. He knew his human Stiles watched him the entire time from the patio. He’d watched the wolf drag the carcass through the tall grass and up onto the platform with no trouble. Preening, the wolf had made brief eye contact with the human when he laid the beast to its final spot, but bound away as the man made to speak to him. From his place amongst the blackberry and tall grass, the wolf watched and waited. 

His human Stiles walked out onto the porch slowly, eyes scanning the tree line in an attempt to spot the wolf. The wolf felt his body prickle uncomfortably with anticipation and nerves. What if the boy found this food unsatisfactory as well? What is he rejected both gifts? The courting would stop at that point. The wolf would not be able to continue after two rejections. 

Stiles stopped his searching and turned his face down towards the buck. The wolf was proud he’d rallied such a large animal for his mate. It’s palmated rack showed 5 points on one horn and 4 on the other with each horn thick and curved eloquently from the animals skull. He looked more like a moose than a deer. He was heavy and the wolf had loved taking him down. It took him nearly twenty minutes to get the beast hamstringed and then his windpipe plugged. It had been a good part of the day. A medium sized pack could be fed well from this kill. 

The strong, coppery tang of blood brought the wolf’s wandering thoughts back to his mate and the dead trophy at his feet. His human Stiles was rubbing his hand in the blood that seeped sluggishly from the animal’s neck. The wolf involuntarily stepped out from his hiding spot, his head breaking the cover of dead leaves and vines as he watched his intended mate’s movements with rapt attention. The human’s eyes zeroed in on him and slowly he raised the bloody hand to his face, wiping it across his lips and cheeks without looking away. Then he stood again and grasped the buck by the antlers, pushing back with his feet to try and pull the giant dead weight closer to the den. 

Barking and tail wagging, the wolf rejoiced and ran forward. His teeth sank into the thick, loose flesh on the buck’s neck so that he could assist his human with moving the carcass closer to the den. When they had moved it to where it was only a few feet from the door, the wolf felt the weight of a hands on his shoulders. The tacky, bloodied hand moved forward to rub over the top of his head. Turning his eyes, he watched Stiles card through his fur, a look of wonder on the human’s face. 

“You’ve never let me this close to your wolf form before, Derek. You’re _beautiful_ ….” Stiles brought his other hand to bury into the thick mane of fur round the wolf’s neck. The wolf pushed his body forward, knocking his side into Stiles’ shoulder and putting his nose into the human’s neck to smell him. He didn’t smell as deeply of Derek and the wolf any longer, the scent washed away with his daily cleansing. Licking his rough tongue over the side of the neck once, the wolf turned and bound back into the brush. He would seek a temporary shelter and sleep, tired from his travel and his kill, and then start again tomorrow for his next task and gift. His exhilaration at his intended mate’s approval felt like a warm balm over him as he settled in to take his well-earned rest. 

\---

Herding a mountain lion over miles of terrain was a lot different than herding a deer. For one, mountain lions generally outweigh wolves by about fifty or so pounds…also, they’re sonofabitches. The wolf grit his jaws as he agitated the lion once more into chasing him. Occasionally the other predator would get a lucky swipe in and draw blood from him, but the wolf was relentless in his task and simply let his wounds heal while on the move. The cat and he had been at it for about three days and he was just as tired as the cat probably was. The wolf knew that the den was close and they would be able to end this soon, otherwise he might’ve let the giant cat go in lieu of a new hunt closer to home. What had seemed a worthy endeavor when he was fresh with his mate’s approval felt like folly as his mind clouded with fatigue. 

As the den came into sight, the wolf found himself stirring up the cat to scream at him so his potential mate would come out to witness his latest prize. With one eye on the big cat and the other on the porch, he waited until he saw his human Stiles to really begin the contest. One look at the stunned look in the human eyes, and the wolf knew he could really begin the fight. 

The cat was a challenge he wasn’t sure he’d win. Plenty of regular wolves had been brought down by mountain lions. He was relying on his speed of healing and his preternatural strength to win him this fight. Even with those advantages, the savage claws of the mountain lion could disembowel him or break his neck if he didn’t keep his wits about him. His main ploy would be the same as with the deer, get behind the cat in order to hamstring him. Once he was crippled, go in for the windpipe with his jaws. 

Unfortunately, the wolf didn’t count on the speed of the cat. He felt searing pain in his foreleg and looked down to see blood running freely. The cat had drawn first blood. The wound had almost severed all the muscles in that leg making it impossible for him to stand. Backing away sharply, the wolf turned and dived in for a quick bite to the cat’s shoulder, feeling more sharp claws imbed themselves into his flank. He clenched his jaws and pulled back, ripping the skin and a small part of the muscle outward. The cat screamed and the wolf licked the blood off his muzzle as he watched the cat back up a few paces to regard him. They weren’t even, but at least the cat would be wary for the few minutes it would take for him to regain use of his foreleg. 

They paced around each other, both panting. The wolf noted Stiles still on the porch watching, eyes wide and frightened. The cat took advantage of his momentary lapse in attention, springing forward and rolling him. He found himself on his back, the cougar’s jaws coming in quick to try and clamp onto his throat, clicking inches away from completing their task. The wolf pushed out with his forelegs against the chest and under the jaw of the beast but his injured leg still gave under the weight that was bearing down on him. His back legs bunched and pushed at the soft middle of the cat, digging his splayed claws into its stomach and raking downwards in an attempt to disembowel the creature. The wolf felt wet on his own stomach but didn’t dare look down to check if he’d accomplished his goal. The pressure over him disappeared as the cat jumped off to get away from his legs even as his face stayed near enough to try again to clamp onto the wolf’s neck. Twisting, the cat only managed to snag some of his ruff before he got his feet back beneath him to spring at the cat’s back. He landed more on its side, over-judging the distance, but was able to get his jaw around the back of its neck near his head. He tightened his teeth like a vice and then began shaking his head savagely in an attempt to break the cat’s neck. The cat tried to roll them, trapping the wolf briefly underneath its increasingly desperate, writhing body as he pushed his teeth further together to keep his hold on the animal’s neck. 

The animal screamed again and tried once again to roll them in order to dislodge the wolf. With a stroke of brilliance, the wolf suddenly let go of the cougar’s neck and let it roll, giving it instant access to the soft throat beneath its jaw. The wolf charged forward, his teeth closing round the soft skin instantly. He bit down and let the animal’s blood fill his mouth, fueling his desire to win. The cat’s claws encased him, digging into the meat at his shoulders and back, it’s back legs scrabbling to get underneath him. The wolf side stepped their dig, keeping his belly away from the strong, wildly thrashing legs. He shook his head, feeling the muscles underneath his teeth begin to tear away from the cat’s body. His victory was so close! Ignoring the pain in his back where his skin was being shredded by the cat’s claws, he pulled and shook his head as if he were feeding on a carcass, trying to get to the fresh, supple meet underneath the skin for a feast. 

It was over quickly. With a burst of supernatural strength, the wolf pulled back it’s neck and with it came the throat of the big cat. It scrabbled briefly, but the severed arteries in it’s neck fountained blood onto the cold ground between them and it soon lost control of its limbs. Spitting out the flesh, the wolf watched, it’s lips still pulled back in a snarl and hackles raised in case the big cat was able to find an ounce of strength to mount a last attack at him. The cat, however, had lost too much blood and it’s heart beat faltered and slowed as it stared at the wolf in fear and anger over its death. The wolf bowed his head at the last beat of the beast’s heart, raising it again with a howl in honor of it’s fight and to announce his victory. As he let loose the ululation from his throat, he felt smooth, humanly strong arms encircle his neck as his potential mate buried his face into the side of his neck. 

The wolf stood there panting, blissed out at the feeling of victory and his human Stiles body pressed against him mixing their scent. His muzzle was growing sticky with the quickly cooling blood of his fallen enemy and he felt the familiar itch of his many wounds re-knitting themselves. He smelled the salt of his human’s tears and the stink of his previous fear from watching the fight. He let himself enjoy the new jubilation that was infusing the man’s scent as he finished healing the worst of his injuries. Finally, he shook off the arms of his intended and trotted away. He turned to watch the boy, waiting for him to make his move. Now, if he accepted the gift, was the final part of their courting before the wolf could mark him. Now the boy must lead the chase. 

Slowly, the boy stood from where he’d been kneeled in the winter dirt to hug the wolf. He regarded him and the wolf returned the gaze, waiting patiently. He knew he’d have to give the human a head-start. The human would be slow compared to him and noisy. Already his wolf nose had memorized the stink of his skin, knowing it would be the initial trail to follow. Suddenly his human Stiles grinned, crouching and bunching his muscles for the sprint. 

“Catch me if you can, big bad.” He quipped. Then he was off like a shot, bursting through the brush line and into the darkening forest beyond. The wolf huffed out at a laugh at how much noise his potential mate was making on his way. 

_**Stealthy, he is not.**_

The human part of him supplied, holding them in check. 

_**How will you mark him?**_

The wolf pictured all the traditional ways to mark a mate at the end of the chase. 

_**Let me guide you in this. When it is time, let us share this body more fully so that I can speak and explain.**_

The wolf’s desperation to have his potential mate accept his suit was the only thing that allowed him to acquiesce to this. He growled low in the back of his throat, answering during his first spring into his run now that the human’s noise had grown quieter. 

_As you wish._

\----

The chase was short, the wolf cornered the boy by the lake. He’d tried to throw the wolf off a couple times by zigzagging and doubling back, leaving false scent trails where he could, but the noise had always been his tell. Were the wolf blind, he would have still been able to give chase due to the sheer volume of that human body’s heart as it burst through the forest. The human Stiles however seemed unperturbed at how easily he was found, smiling at the wolf from where he kneeled in the sand of the beach. He was mostly naked now and his skin glowed silver in the rising moon. He leaned back on his heels, tilting his head up to offer his neck for marking, his hands clasped over his ankles to show off his belly for the wolf. 

Slowly, the wolf let his human-side bleed back in, changing their skin and shape. He felt himself squashed to the side as the human side pushed to control half of their movements and thoughts. With human legs he lifted his body to stand and with human eyes he looked down at his intended mate. Stiles watched him silently, his chin still tilted as far back as he could get it and to the side, exposing the softly thrumming veins in his neck. Derek kneeled in front of him and grasped Stiles shoulders, bringing his face close to bury his nose into the stretched taut skin. He kissed the skin, humming his approval at the exhilaration and salt that colored the flavor there. 

“Stiles,” Derek started, his body shaking with the need to press himself against Stiles from ankle to ear. “The wolf needs to mark you.” 

“Yes, I know.” The click of his throat when he swallowed was the only indication that he was nervous as to how exactly that would be occurring. 

“He wants to bite you. He wants to break skin and taste your blood.” Derek explained, pulling his half shifted face back to stare Stiles in the eye. Stiles looked at him, surprise evident in every feature. He’d been expecting something else. Derek saw him push back his fear at having his skin broken in order to answer. 

“Where does he want to break it?” He asked simply. 

“On your shoulder and neck joint. It’s traditional. Stiles…. He and I both would like to offer you The Bite. We would like to offer you the wolf gift. Will you accept?” 

Stiles sucked in a breath, pulling back to more fully stare Derek in the eye. He opened his mouth to speak, answering so softly that Derek couldn’t hear his answer over the thundering of his own heart and the blackness that was starting to edge into his vision. The healing, the days of running without food, the constant fighting to get the cougar there, the chase, and the final battle started to pull Derek’s body into darkness. He had to know the answer before his body gave out, forcing him to rest when he would not do it willing. 

“What?” He asked again through a thick tongue, his speech slurring past his fangs. He tried to re-attune his senses to hear the answer, even as he felt himself slumping forward, his eyes no longer seeing anything around him. 

“What?” he asked again, his cheek sliding down Stiles body as he heard his own name shouted in surprise. Hands cradled him and he smiled against the touch, letting unconsciousness take him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's part one of this little interlude of our story. The next chapter takes place at the same time as this one, but from Stiles POV. 
> 
> Feel free to come find me on tumblr as [ SkinSharpenedTeeth](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com). I love all the words of encouragement I get between chapters. It really helps bolster me throughout the week!


	9. Find Me Worthy, another perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Derek is wolfed out, Stiles is left alone to ponder the consequences... (***This chapter takes place at the same time at Chapter 8, but is from Stiles POV***)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the companion chapter to Chapter 8 "Find Me Worthy". It takes place in the same time period as the previous chapter but is from Stiles POV. 
> 
> I felt like a lot of important things were happening in both perspectives during these chapters and I wanted you guys to get them both. Plus I felt it would be super boring to read the same action next week as this week so I posted them together. I hope it was worth the two day delay!
> 
> As usual, not beta'd. I am open to constructive criticism and any notes on mistakes. Msg me!

*****Stiles’ POV*****  
DECEMBER/JANUARY

Dawn came, but even before Stiles opened his eyes to the shadowed, blue atmosphere of the cabin he knew that he was still alone. Derek was still gone. He let the confusion and hurt overwhelm him for a moment, wondering what he possibly could’ve done wrong to make Derek flee the cabin without a word. Surely he hadn’t been that bad in bed? His first instinct would be to call Scott or Allison, ranting and begging for help in the same breath, but he had a feeling this wasn’t something they could instruct him on how to fix. This felt like something to do with the cabin and it’s magic if the tingle on his skin was an indication. He was already beginning to feel touch starved, his body yearning towards the skin of a man who had abandoned him. 

Sitting up with a sigh, he finally opened his eyes and surveyed the now familiar main room. The fire would be his first project since the nights were only getting colder. Without heat from that fire or Derek, he was sure to get hypothermia. He could sit and mope over Derek’s disappearance and the dead animals on their porch later. First he needed to pull his surroundings back into order. 

\---

As it turns out, being abandoned is not only hurtful, but incredibly boring when you’re magically tethered to a cabin. The next day, after he’d had a proper cry over his situation and had come somewhat to grips with the situation, he found himself staring at the fire and sighing disconsolately. Without Derek to tease, he was left with the games on his phone and his own mind to occupy his time. If he knew anything, it was that his mind should not be left to examine itself too long. He was fully aware that he could easily drive himself crazy. 

Stiles’ eyes landed on Derek’s Christmas gift to him, lying on the table in the dining area. He’d meant to get a good look at it yesterday during lunch and before Derek’s and his next round of mind-blowing sex…. But apparently that had not happened. Pushing himself away from the kitchen counter where he’d been munching on carrots, he retrieved the book to alieve some of his boredom. It was heavy and leather bound with small cracks spidering over the cover and spine from not being properly maintained over the years. He opened it to look at the chapter listing, running his finger down the list and taking in the sheer amount of creatures Campbell had managed to study and write about. 

When Stiles’ finger landed on Werewolf he gave a pause. He felt himself fairly knowledgeable about the people he’d spent most of his adult life around, but he wondered what more Campbell could offer him. Opening up to the beginning of the chapter, he briefly scanned each page for sub-section titles. There were categories on territory claims, dispute resolution within and outside of the pack, pack hierarchy, bonding rituals and mating ceremonies, holidays and—His eye’s backtracked. **Bonding Rituals and Mating Ceremonies**! Maybe this could explain the weird warm feelings, and the cabin’s distance restrictions and maybe, just maybe, it could explain what the fuck happened to Derek! He re-found the sub-category in the chapter and stared for a moment, unable to believe his luck (and also a little scared that this would turn out to be a dead end). 

_**BONDING RITUALS AND MATING CEREMONIES ******_

_**Werewolves need to bond for a multitude of reasons. They bond with other pack members to strengthen the pack. They bond with potential new members of the pack to cement new loyalties and encourage trust. The most notable bond is that of mates, however, and this bonding can be done out of love between two wolves, to forge a stronger alliance with a neighboring pack, or for the purpose of making a pack stronger through mating two alphas or other strong personalities within the pack together.**_

_**If for love, the bonding is usually like any other courtship. The wolves will flirt, go on runs together, the dominant wolf will present the more submissive partner with gifts such as food or practical material things, they will usually interact sexually to field for compatibility, and then they will decide after a time if they would like to be mated and have a mating ceremony.**_

_**If the pair is bonding to forge an alliance, there is usually a formal meeting between packs with their potential candidates. These wolves are placed in a secluded environment through the fall and winter seasons until wolf mating season begins January and end in March. The wolves, while in a secluded space, are meant to get to know each other and bond through shared experience and forced isolation. They usually do not have much choice as to whether to go through with the mating ceremony at the end of their isolation due to the structure of the agreement most packs go in to when proposing such alliances. They sometimes can end the bonding ritual early by killing the other wolf, but this tends to lead to pack wars and is highly discouraged. Only wolves of a certain status and maturity within the pack are picked to go through bonding rituals for pack alliance.**_

_**If a pair begins the bonding ritual in order to strengthen the pack from within, it is generally due to the pack being fractured or weak. These individuals come together to bond as a way to foster any goodwill already between them and also to hash out differences so even if they decide not to go through with the mating ceremony, the pack will be stronger for the time they spent together. These bonding rituals can be conducted outside of seclusion, but rarely are due to the need to mute other pack member influence. Some well-established packs have had magically re-enforced dens for the express purpose of being used through these months of bonding.**_

_**It should be mentioned that in some rare cases, when a human is intermixed into these ceremonies, it can push a wolf’s instincts into overdrive. Werewolves generally see all humans within their pack as weak alpha’s due to their individualism and independence. If humans are mixed into the bonding ceremony and the werewolf’s human AND wolf sides agree that they would like to claim that human, the wolf may take over for a brief period in order to exclusively court the human. The werewolf will either be stuck in beta or full shift while this happens and their human side will be repressed almost to the point that they will be feral during this period. The wolf will then present it’s gifts to what it sees as its potential mate. The human will need to accept these gifts in order for the wolf to eventually feel comfortable enough to approach the human so that he may scent him. After the presentation of the last gift, the human must lead the wolf on a chase. At the end of the chase, the human will accept a mark from the wolf to continue their bonding until the mating ceremony. Once the human has been scented and marked by the wolf, the human side should be allowed to dominate their shape once more.**_

The book fell heavily against Stiles’ lap as he stared blindly into the space in front of his face. The dead animals were a _gift_?! Standing, he quickly moved to the window to look onto the porch onto to find it clear of carcasses. Apparently, since he’d seen them and not “accepted” them, Derek had pulled them away. He should return with another one, right? Stiles wasn’t going to be stuck in the cabin alone for two more months while Derek was stuck as a wolf out in the forest moping, was he? Quickly Stiles placed the book onto the counter as he pushed out of his seat to go retrieve his phone from the charger upstairs. He very rarely had to call Deaton for anything anymore, and given the strain in their relationship he hoped he never would need to, but this constituted as an emergency if he ever had one. 

Two rings, then three, and Stiles began to lose hope that Deaton would answer. 

“Hello Stiles. I’ve been waiting on your call.” Deaton’s voice answered abruptly. 

“So you knew this would happen?” Stiles asked immediately, his eyes narrowing at the voice on the other end of the line. 

“This?” Deaton asked, a little smug sounding. Stiles really wanted to punch this guy in the jaw. 

“Yeah, Derek’s full shift into wolf mode in order to ‘court’ me or whatever.” Stiles answered through grit teeth. 

“Ah. That. Well…” Deaton started, obviously expecting something a little further along in the game. “Has he started leaving you gifts yet?” 

“Only the one that I found last night after his disappearance from the cabin.” 

“Did you go outside and touch the gifts at all? Did you move them in any way?” Deaton asked. 

“No. I.. I just kind of ran back into the house. I didn’t know what they were.” 

“But you do now?” 

“Yeah. Joseph Campbell’s Creature Codex tipped me off.” 

“When all else fails, research. Isn’t that right, Mr. Stilinski?” 

“Well… yeah. Anyway, how do I accept the gifts?” Stiles asked, not willing to play Deaton’s game of information cat and mouse. 

“There are a myriad of ways to –“ 

“Give me the most straight forward version, doc.” Stiles demanded, cutting Deaton off. He knew it was rude, but he really didn’t want to hear a dissertation on how every creature is different and how their traditions vary in the laws of courting behavior and mating. 

“Fine, Mr. Stilinski, no reason to be short. I’m assuming you’re unwilling to actually consume raw meat from his kills so I would simply smear the blood over your face and then rub your scent onto the wolf. That should suffice. The human side of Derek will still be in the background of the wolf’s mind. It should know that you can’t consume the uncooked flesh without it making you sick. However, the next gift will probably be larger or more ostentatious since you rejected his first try at wooing you. You might want to find out if there’s a service that could come remove a large, dead animal body for you. That or you’re going to have to learn how to skin and butcher quickly.” 

“YYyuuuucckk!” Stiles let out involuntarily. The idea of skinning and butchering meat made his stomach flip unpleasantly. He did not want to be that intimate with any animal and didn’t believe he’d ever be able to consume what he butchered after being that integral to the process of preparing it. 

“Yes, it can be.” Deaton answered simply. 

“What kind of mark can I expect from the wolf?” Stiles asked, changing the subject away from blood, guts, and field dressing. 

“He might want to bite you. He might want to pee on you. He might want to… ahem, fornicate…with you. It just depends on how much control Derek can exert on that part of him during this ritual. I assume he’s in his full-shift for this and not just his beta-form?” 

“Yeah, I think so. I haven’t seen any humanoids tramping through the backyard any way.” 

“Well, things will be much more primal then. The wolf wants you to know it can provide you food, protect you, and then he’ll want to hunt you for a claim. The hunt will be part of a chase. Since you’re human it won’t be much of a contest against him, but if you can think of some ways to make it more interesting for his senses, the wolf will appreciate the effort.” Deaton said the last part with a grin Stiles could hear over the phone. He curled his lip in disgust towards the emissary. 

“Interesting. I’ll keep that noted. Anything I can do in the meantime while waiting for Derek’s next delivery?” 

“Just hang tight in the house. He’ll think of the cabin as your den. He’ll always return there. Just keep an eye and an ear out for his return.” 

“Okay. Anything else I should know?” Stiles asked, head already swimming with implications and information about his predicament. 

“He might offer you The Bite, Stiles. You need to be ready with an answer either way. He might not…but just in case, I’d prepare an answer.” Deaton warned. 

“I refused Peter when he offered it to me. Don’t you think I’d refuse it now?” Stiles countered, suddenly defensive. 

“I don’t know, would you?” The question gave him pause. _Would he?_

“Think about it, Mr. Stilinski. It might not come up now, but it might come up eventually. Running with wolves has that sort of effect on one’s mortality.” 

“Yeah, I will.” He answered honestly. “Thanks for the information, Deaton. Later.” 

“Bye, Mr. Stilinski. I look forward to your mating ceremony.” 

\---

He waited, days passing between the first gift and the next. Stiles boredom was a living thing, but also was it’s companion, his anxiety. He thumbed through the Codex, memorizing the passages concerning werewolves and also perusing through the pages over other creatures he’d faced throughout the years with his pack. When he landed on the section concerning kitsune’s, he found his worry had a face. Picking up the phone, he called Kira. 

“Hey Stiles!” she chirped, voice cheerful even in the early morning. He smiled at hearing her voice. No one could be more perfectly suited for Scott than Kira. They were like two fat, happy puppies rolling around together on a soft blanket. 

“Hey Kira,” he answered, his voice more subdued but no less pleased to speak with her. “I hate to call like this, but I have kind of a random question for you concerning kitsunes.” 

“Oh, okay, yeah, sure. What’s up?” She questioned, curiosity obviously piqued. 

“Well okay… so I was possessed by the nogitsune… which I know is not a full kitsune but a twisted spirit. However it’s pretty close… Anyway… was any part of me… permanently effected by that period of possession?” 

“Uhm… I don’t really know what you’re asking. Like, effected how?” 

“If… say if… uhm… say if Derek accidentally gave me The Bite… is there anything in me that would cause a negative reaction?” He asked, scared for the answer but also hungry for it. 

“Uhhhhhhh…” she started, obviously not expecting the question. “Now that I’m aware of? In fact, I would think that because the nogistune was able to possess you it would show that your body is pretty receptive towards the influences of supernatural magic. Did Derek bite you?” 

“No! No…” He fidgeted, picking at the end of the sofa’s arm absently, trying to rally his thoughts. “Deaton mentioned that he might. We’re… we’re going through some sort of wolfy bonding thing right now with Derek in full-shift…so he might offer me The Bite or give it to me at the end accidentally or something. I’m just… worried about it.” 

Stiles hadn’t admitted that he was worried about whether Derek would actually offer him The Bite; not out loud at least. He sighed and waited for Kira’s response. 

“Stiles, I don’t think Derek would, or _could_ even, accidentally bite you. I think it will be an offer and you will have the right to refuse it. Are you worried because you don’t want it?” She asked, her voice curious, but not prying. 

“I don’t know what I want. It’s been awhile since I even considered it. I just kind of slot myself in as the token human of the pack.” He answered, rubbing his hand over the side of his face not covered by his phone. He stared at his surroundings, noting inconsequential details of the cabin as his mind tried to race over all the possibilities of accepting or rejecting an offer if Derek made it. 

“Sometimes you don’t know what you’ll do until you’re in the situation.” Kira offered. 

“I’ve been in that situation before though, with Peter. I rejected it.” 

“Yeah, but Stiles, you didn’t want him to be your alpha. Maybe in a different set of circumstances you’ll choose differently.” 

“Maybe.” Stiles conceded, though his mind held onto his doubt that it would be the case. Quietly, he continued. “Do you think he’ll still want me if I say no to The Bite?” 

“Oh, Stiles…” her voice sounded so sad, so pitying, that it made me ashamed he’d asked. “You know he’d want you come Hell or high water. The wolf may be disappointed in your decision, but the man will understand.” 

“Yeah… I just… I don’t think I could get through him rejecting me. I don’t want to break his heart by rejecting what he would see as a gift.” 

“Stiles, Derek loves you. And he knows this is something that not everyone wants. It’s not like cake, it’s not universally loved and adored. It’s different. Even if you say ‘no’, he’ll get it. It won’t change that he loves you.” 

“But will it change how he loves me?” 

“I can’t answer that for you, Stiles. But don’t let that fear push you into doing something you don’t really want.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” He answered. 

“I gotta go, Stiles. Scott is here to pick me up for brunch. Just take some time to really think over it.” She finished. He hummed his ascent and gave his goodbyes. After he tossed the phone onto the coffee table, he leaned back and covered his face with his hands, exhaling loudly into them. He had no idea what he wanted to do. He never questioned his decision to refuse The Bite from Peter, but Kira was right. He didn’t want Peter to be his alpha. Did he want Derek to be that though? Could he bend under the power of Derek’s will even when he disagreed with him? There was a certain amount of free will he enjoyed as a human in a wolf pack. Did he want to give it up? 

\---

The tell-tale thump of something large bumping against the wood of the patio stairs brought Stiles out onto the covered porch. Derek’s large, black wolf shape drug a large, well-fed but very dead buck into the clear area in the middle of the decking. The wolf lifted its red eyes to meet Stiles’ briefly. Stiles opened his mouth, ready to try and reason with the human somewhere inside the wolf, but as soon as his lips parted the wolf bolted off the patio deck and back into the cover of the trees and bushes outlying the clearing. Sighing, he stared down at the dead deer on his porch. 

It was an impressive kill. It probably outweighed the wolf by a hundred pounds and it’s horns were thick and sturdy. Stiles didn’t want to touch it, didn’t really want anything to do with it, but he steeled himself to do what he must so as not to insult Derek. Pushing through the screened door, he made his way towards the kill. He found himself scanning the tree line to see if he could spot the dark wolf amongst the shadows. When he couldn’t spot the sooty coat or the red glow of Alpha eyes, Stiles returned his gaze to the animal at his feet. Blood still oozed slowly from it’s neck where Derek had delivered the killing bite. Crouching down, Stiles stretched out his shaking hand. He had to grit his teeth to do it, but without another moment’s hesitation he pushed his hand into the warm, viscous liquid at the buck’s neck. Noise from the brush brought his attention to where the wolf stood at attention along the edge of the clearing, alert to every single movement Stiles made over it’s offering. Coating his palm thickly, he brought his wet hand to his mouth and smeared the blood over his cheeks and lips. The smell was thick and cloying, filling his nose and worming it’s way into his throat. To keep from gagging, he stood and grabbed the buck’s horns, using his full body weight to start trying to drag the animal closer to the house. Action kept him from thinking about what he was doing. Movement was the only thing that kept the bile in his belly instead of on the wood beneath his feet. 

Derek joined him on the deck, his massive teeth sinking into the loose skin at the back of deer’s neck like a dog would a pup, pulling and tugging the massive animal with Stiles closer to the house. Dropping the weight of the horns, Stiles turned and crouched near the wolf. He crowded as close as he could, running his tacky, red hand over the wolf’s head. This close he could pick out the bits of grey shining through the wolf’s coat at his muzzle and through his mane. The red eyes were a dull red, echoing the dark blood that dripped between the deck’s planks onto the earth below. Derek was almost taller than Stiles as a wolf when he stood and Stiles kneeled. 

“You’ve never let me this close to your wolf form before, Derek. You’re _beautiful_ ….” Stiles brought his other hand to bury into the thick mane of fur round the wolf’s neck. It was wiry on the outside, but as his fingers sank further into the warm fur it became soft as fleece. Derek shoulder checked Stiles with his body, obviously scenting him when he pushed his cold nose against the skin of Stiles’ neck, his warm rough tongue licking the skin there. Stiles shuddered, wanting to throw his arms around the hulking body and hold him close, but the wolf turned and jumped off the porch moments later to disappea into the woods. Stiles watched, wishing he would come back, wishing he could shift back to human Derek. Then looking down, he took in the dead animal on his porch and sighed heavily. 

“Now what the fuck am I going to do with you?” he asked the inert form. Standing, he walked back into the house, stopping in the kitchen to wash his face and hands before calling a local wildlife services and reporting the dead deer. He knew he’d have to think of a pretty creative lie as to why it was on his porch, but at least he knew that he wouldn’t have to prove that it wasn’t him that killed it. 

\---

In the interim between visits, Lydia came up to the cabin. When Stiles opened the door for her, she looked him up and down once before whisking past him carrying grocery bags. Stiles closed to door and followed her, mumbling “Well hello to you too, Lydia.” 

As soon as the bags of food were set down, Lydia’s sharp eyes zeroed in on her still wrapped gift to Derek and Stiles sitting under the tree. 

“Well,” she said with an exasperated sigh, “At least you didn’t open it in front of your dad.” 

“Huh?” Stiles said before following her line of sight. Blushing, he coughed a little to buy himself some time. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Derek went wolf before we were able to get to it.” 

“It’s okay. I was just wondering why I hadn’t received a thank you card or gift basket or something.” She replied, smiling at him with sacchrine sweetness. Stiles felt his eyes widen and his blush deepen as he considered the possibilities of what she had bought them that might cause her to be bought a gift basket. 

“Do I want to open it?” He asked cheekily. Her smile widened further, making her look slightly sinister. 

“Oh I think you do.” She replied, glancing back at the package momentarily. Stiles could smell a set-up when he was presented with one, but he didn’t know exactly what her end game was by going through all the trouble. Sighing, he decided he would probably never understand the little redhead’s machinations fully. Lydia was, Stiles admitted privately to himself, much more devious and intelligent than he was. 

“So are we going to talk about it?” she asked, practically flouncing over to the sofa to take a seat. Stiles followed her more sedately, sinking into his own seat like he could melt into the cushions if he just concentrated hard enough. 

“Talk about what exactly?” he asked, resting a hand over his eyes as if he could brace himself for it. 

“You being offered The Bite by Derek!” she slapped his hand away from his face, her tone admonishing. Stiles looked over at her disapproving frown and sighed, deeply. 

“No, we’re not. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet and I don’t think at this point I’m going to know until it happens if it happens. Let’s talk about something else.” 

“Okay. Let’s talk about your mating ceremony then. Apparently, the pack is supposed to be planning this thing. Have you thought any about that, at least?” 

No, Stiles hadn’t. He knew it was coming up, but he really hadn’t put much thought into what the ceremony actually entailed. He’d stopped reading the Codex once it started talking about the ceremony itself, only briefly skimming it during his re-reads of each section. He felt like it was a million years away.

“Uh…” he started, feeling like he was caught in the headlights. 

“Oh Stiles” Lydia started, sounding like she was deeply disappointed in his lack of detail. “Where’s the book Derek gave you that talks about it? I’ll take a picture of the pages I need with my phone and then get with the pack to try and organize something appropriate.” 

“I don’t think it’s that big a deal, Lydia.” Stiles started, getting up anyway to go grab the book off the kitchen counter for her. She clucked her tongue at him and practically ripped the book from his hands. He glared at her momentarily while she opened the chapter contents to find the section on werewolves. Stiles decided to let her do all the work since she was being so condescending. 

“Would you like some coffee while you read?” he asked, heading towards the kitchen in search of the left over whiskey his father had brought for Christmas. 

“Sure.” He heard her answer as he pulled down another mug from the cabinet. Filling up her cup, he tried to surreptitiously add some of the amber liquid to his own without her noticing. 

“You can give me a finger of that as well, Stiles” she called, not even looking up from the pages. Sighing, he poured a little into hers as well before turning and heading back to the couch. She was taking pictures with her phone of each page, only pausing occasionally to actually read certain sections before continuing. 

“So will I need to wear white or Derek?” he asked, sipping his laced coffee. 

“Don’t be so provincial” she admonished, rolling her eyes at him. “This is way more pagan-inspired than that. It looks like a lot of group circles and offerings from the pack. We’ll probably do it up here. No special clothing needed as far as I can tell, but it would be nice if you guys would put on a pair of slacks or something. Anyway, I’ll delve a little deeper into it once I get back home.” 

“Which will be?” Stiles asked delicately. Not that he didn’t love Lydia, but he wasn’t enjoying her mood today as much as he might another time. 

“Offer me lunch and I might leave this afternoon. Keep being rude and I won’t leave until tomorrow.” She replied tartly, squaring a look at him. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just on edge I guess.” 

“You’re probably getting a magical work over. You don’t want anyone in your den while the alpha is away. I get it. But I’d still like lunch since I did drive all this way to basically deliver you groceries.” She replied, smoothing her hands over her legging covered thighs. Stiles nodded to himself over the rightness of her assumption, the emotion now identified clicking into place. He didn’t want her in the cabin without Derek there. He didn’t want anyone here except Derek. 

“Sure. What would you like me to make you?” Stiles offered, getting up and heading smoothly back towards the kitchen where he began to unpack the groceries. The tiff was over, smoothed between them easily as soon as the tension was acknowledged. 

\---

The last gift was heralded by the screaming roar of a mountain lion. Stiles had been reclining on the couch, staring blandly at the fireplace in hopes that the wood would pick itself up and put itself on top of the low flames. Being alone was wearing on him and he was lethargic to do anything. He wished Derek were there, smoothing his hands over his body, or just moving around the house around him. He’d woken that morning with his face pressed into Derek’s pillow, searching out the last traces of his scent from the pillow case. When he couldn’t find any, a weight settled on his heart. He missed Derek terribly and not just for the company. So when the scream of the big cat rent the air of the clearing, Stiles knew the time had come for the final gift. 

Getting up, he printed through to the outside deck without hesitation. Hearing the cat and seeing it were two very different things. He spotted Derek easily, circling around the large cougar that seemed spitting mad to have been herded into the clearing. It looked like it might be bigger than Derek, with it’s sleek, tan body and large, trunk-like legs. The cat definitely had power and Stiles briefly wondered if Derek had bitten off more than he could chew. As soon as the first hit came, looking like it almost severed Derek’s legs, Stiles vision grew bleary. He held his breath, watching the fight progress and fearing for Derek. Worst case scenarios streamed behind Stiles eyes even as the fight raged. He felt his heart in his ears, sweat breaking out over his body as he waited to see who the victor would be. 

At last, Derek seemed to get the upper hand with his mouth closing around the throat of the large cat. Stiles dared to hope, dared to pray to any listening deity that this was the end of the contest. Even as Derek shook his head, Stiles couldn’t believe he’d won until he watched the muscles of the cat’s throat get separated from it’s neck. Only when Derek lifted his blood-caked muzzle to the air to declare his victory did Stiles move from the porch. He felt tears stream down his cheek as he raced across the clearing to press himself against the warm, solid body of the wolf. The stink of the cat was all over him, mixed with the blood in his fur, but Stiles didn’t care. He was so happy that Derek had come out of it, that he had won! 

Stiles felt the wolf shake in his arms, twisting his body out of their grasp. He trotted away and sat on his haunches, watching Stiles expectantly. Stiles knew what to do and felt an instinct he wasn’t aware he had take over his actions. Grinning, he met the wolf’s red-eyed gaze. 

“Catch me if you can, big bad.” 

He took off, his legs pumping as he tried to put distance between himself and the wolf. He knew he wasn’t yet being pursued, but the feeling that he would be soon drove him through the brush wildly. The twigs and vines grabbed at his skin and clothes making a thousand tiny wounds that he would have to heal the old-fashioned way. Finding a game track, Stiles used it to weave his way deeper into the forest, only half aware of where he was heading. He struggled to pull his shirt off over his head, throwing it haphazardly in one direction as he ran another. When he felt he could, he stopped to tug his pants off, kicking them into the air and catching them before running a ways onto a side track and burying them under some brush before backtracking and continuing on his run. He knew he was making a lot of noise and the sting of the cold and the dead foliage whipping into his skin was making him clumsy, but he hoped the wolf would appreciate his effort. 

When the lake came into view, Stiles slowed his gait. His breath heaved from his chest, large blooms of warm, humid air clouding in front of his face as he stared at the icy water. He heard the distant crashing of the wolf following his scent. He turned and lowered himself onto his knees in the cold, damp sand of the beach while he waited. He was ready for whatever burst out of those trees. He was ready. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo!!! What did Stiles decide? 
> 
> Next update will be on March 4th by midnight central time! 
> 
> Feel free to contact me here by leaving a comment or on tumblr at [SkinSharpenedTeeth](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com).


	10. Waking Up to Wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek wakes up and wants to know.... Does Stiles want The Bite?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! So I'm a couple hours late! I hope you guys enjoy this. It's a little short but I think it's pretty sweet. 
> 
> Also, it's edited but not perfect. I hope you guys know I really do appreciate every time you point out mistakes to me. I try to correct the as often and as quickly as I can. Thanks again for being AMAZING!

*****Derek’s POV*****  
JANUARY

Derek’s consciousness briefly dabbled in the realm of dreams mixed with reality. He remembered his sister, Cora, holding his hand as they ran down to the lake as children. He remembered the icy bite of the water at his skin, waking up every cell in his body and causing him to gasp and shiver until his body got used to the cold. He remembered the feeling of Stiles’ skin beneath his lips, trembling in a mockery of the cold, but so infused with passion that Derek’s teeth itched to taste his blood. He remembered running in his wolf fur and feeling the grass tickle his belly as his wolf took the lead in a hunt and he sat back and learned from him, learned how to separate himself from a kill, learned the difference between vengeance killing, survival killing, and joyful killing and which ones he should be wary of engaging in. He thought at times he heard Stiles murmuring to him, hand at his forehead and heart, making him feel cared for in a way it’s been too long to recall without a lurch of loss. He remembered his father telling him about mates and religion and how there are only so many wolf spirits, so there can only be so many werewolves. He thought of his grandmother having full moon feasts and praying over the pack at each moon before the run. He imagined Stiles washing warm water over his face and chest, sponging his legs and feet, looking up at him with his expression concerning and begging. He remembered his mother’s voice, telling him that someone someday would see him for what he is and love him for the good and bad… and he remembered the soft whisper of her lips on his temple as they stared at the Blood Moon bonfire.

Scrabbling from beneath the weight of his memories, Derek pushed himself towards to surface of consciousness. He felt like he was underwater slowly trying to rise the last couple feet towards fresh air. Slowly, warm fuzzy light brightened and blinked ahead of him. Slowly, details came into focus like the boxed shape of the skylight in the ceiling above him. Slowly, he was able to feel the weight of the blanket on his legs and hear the quiet crackle of the sap cracking against the heat of the fire, and he felt another heartbeat against his arm as the smell of Stiles filled his nose. He moved his head hesitantly, turning to see Stiles laid out next to him, curled against his side, with dark circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted and Derek wasn’t sure it would be fair to wake him up just yet. Trying to move stealthy unfortunately seemed to be a skill he was unable to complete. As he shifted to put his feet on the ground and sit on the edge of the bed, his head spun violently at the change in positions and he felt himself falling forward before he could reach out a hand to steady himself. 

“Oh my God, Derek!” Stiles called, scrambling up from the bed to come over and help Derek into a sitting position on the floor. Derek cradled his head in one hand, waiting for the turning to stop. 

“Are you really awake this time?” Stiles asked after a moment, when Derek was able to lower his hand from his head. Derek looked over at him and smiled, a little embarrassed. 

“Yeah” he croaked, shocked at how disused his voice sounded. He tried clearing his throat a couple times before continuing. “I just have to pee.” 

“I’m sure you do. Let me help you up until you get your land legs back.” Stiles responded with a smirk. He stood up next to Derek and held out his hand for Derek to grasp. Planting his heels, Derek let Stiles pull him up to stand. Another wave of dizziness came over him, but this one was much weaker and cleared after a few seconds. Having Stiles arms around him felt like bliss also, but Derek had a pressing need that was only getting worse the longer he stood in the bedroom. 

“Okay I’m ready to walk” Derek announced a bit more confidently than he felt. Stiles arms loosened enough to give Derek room to move, but hovered close enough in case Derek started to stumble. Derek took a cautious couple of first steps towards the bathroom. His legs felt like they had sand bags strapped to them and every muscle in his body seemed to disclose a new ache to him with every bunch and release as he slowly made his way to the water closet. 

After finishing his business, Derek gingerly made his way back to the bed. Stiles was sitting on the side of it looking tired enough to sleep for a month, but when he looked up at Derek all Derek could see was the care and concern Stiles had for him and his welfare. Sitting and then lying down on his back, Derek reached out and tugged the back of Stiles’ shirt so Stiles would lie back against him. He hugged him close, pressing Stiles’ head into his chest as he buried his nose in his hair. It was a little greasy from being unwashed, but he didn’t smell bad. Most of the perfume from the soap had rubbed off and he simply smelled like Stiles, which was a pretty damn good smell in Derek’s opinion. 

“You were asleep for two days, by the way.” Stiles said aloud, speaking the answer to a question Derek hadn’t even decided to ask yet. The information made close his eyes and try to concentrate. Why was he so tired? What happened to make him sleep for two days? His wolf chose to answer with flashes of memory. Letting the visions wash over him, he put the pieces together as he combed his fingers through Stiles’ hair. Stiles sighed heavily, but his body relaxed further and Derek knew he was on the edge of sleep. If he was honest with himself, Derek could use more sleep as well. 

“We’ll talk about it after our next nap. I’m glad I’m back. I’m glad I woke up with you next to me.” Derek said quietly, moving them so that Stiles was on his side cradled between Derek’s arms and curving in a long arc against Derek’s body. Derek nuzzled his nose into the juncture of neck and shoulder and scattered kisses in between the moles there. Stiles stretched in the circle of his embrace, pointing out his fingers and toes, yawning wide enough to unhinge his jaw. He relaxed and wiggled back against Derek, his cloth covered ass putting pressure against Derek’s dick. He had no clue how his body could think about sex as sore as he was, but he felt himself responding and grinding up against the cleft between Stiles’ cheeks in response. 

“I thought we were going to sleep?” Stiles teased, moving his hips in lazy small circles as Derek’s cock quickly filled with blood. Derek’s hand smoothed down Stiles’ chest to then smooth back up it, bringing the t-shirt Stiles’ was hiding under with it. Stiles chuckled as he shed the shirt and then reached down to start removing his boxer briefs, only hesitating long enough to say, 

“I’m… I’m not stretched out and I haven’t showered in a couple days… we, uh, probably don’t want to go full monty this time….” The shade of embarrassment that infused his face and shoulders made him that much more delicious to Derek so instead of answering verbally Derek reached down to push at the hem of Stiles’ underwear in a clear indication that he didn’t care. He might care on another day, but right now he just wanted as much of Stiles’ skin to be pressed against his as he could get. Getting the hint, Stiles quickly shed the underwear off the side of the bed. He turned his head in a silent plea, and Derek stopped his ministrations on Stiles’ neck to oblige him. The kiss was at first soft, with just a whisper of Stiles’ tongue wetting Derek’s lips, but soon it turned deep. Their tongues met and danced away as their lips moved against one another. The broad, smooth plane of Derek’s palm mapped out Stiles’ body, letting his thumb swipe meaningfully over the younger man’s nipple as it traveled down the flat expanse of his stomach and then grasped the base of his stiff prick. Derek tried to time the slow, firm strokes he gave Stiles to the soft, inward thrust of his hips. His cock was leaking, sliding as it was between Stiles’ butt cheeks. 

“Fuck Derek… this isn’t the only reason… but God, I missed you!” Stiles laughed breathily as his own hips thrust in sinuous circles, first back against Derek’s length and then forward into the circle on his fist. 

“Grab the lube.” Derek instructed when he could find his voice. Stiles was whimpering now with every hard snap of Derek’s hips against his. Derek could feel his orgasm starting to build, and his animal side wanted to rut and smother this boy almost more than he could control. Stiles rolled briefly onto his stomach so he could reach over to the night stand on his side of the bed and grab the boy butter off the top. He pushed the top of the tub off and offered its contents to Derek. Getting a somewhat generous helping onto his fingers, Derek smoothed the lube over the insides of Stiles’ thighs and against his taint. When he was finished, he pulled Stiles’ body back onto its side against his as he drew back his hips and positioned his cock against the slippery tunnel he’d made for himself between Stiles’ legs. Reaching back around to Stiles’ red, leaking cock with the hand still covered in lubricant residue, Derek encircled his hand around it lightly and gave long, barely there strokes over Stiles’ dick. Stiles shuddered, his hips pumping shallowly as he tried to get more friction. 

“Derek” Stiles whined, chest flushed and hand reaching back to clutch Derek’s hip. “Please, I need you.” 

“I need you too.” Derek whispered into the dampening hair behind Stiles’ ear. He pushed forward into the slick channel he’d made for himself, grunting at how good it felt to have that wet, warm crevice to fuck himself in to. He pulled Stiles’ hips tighter against his own as his body pushed itself harder against Stiles, muscles starting to strain towards completion. He felt the head of his cock softly bumping Stiles’ sac ass he pushed as far forward as he could. He tightened his fist, pumping Stiles in a mimic of his movements. His mouth was slack against Stiles’ shoulder and he dared a glance between them. 

“I don’t think…” Derek gasped out as he quickly looked back up. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of watching my dick disappear into you. Into your mouth, into your ass, into your hands, between your thighs…” He trailed off as he lewdly ground his hips flush against Stiles’ ass. His felt the bite of Stiles’ nails pinching his skin as he clung to Derek’s hip. 

“Fuck, Der… I want you in me so fucking bad right now. Goddamnit, I’d work just the tip if I could.” Stiles gasped out, fucking his hips back while he squeezed his thighs more tightly together. Derek vision started to go white around the edges as his hips lost most of their rhythm. He felt his balls drawing up tight towards his body and the rush of desperation that preceded an orgasm. In front of him, Stiles let out a sound like a wounded animals and shot his load over Derek’s hand. Growling possessively, Derek pumped himself harder between Stiles’ thighs, the loud, wet smacking between them as obscene as the grunting coming from his throat. Stiles sighed underneath him, pulling Derek’s hand from his cock and raising it to his lips where he could lick his spent passion off of Derek’s fingers and from the webbing in between them. The wet, sliding of Stiles tongue between his fingers and the hot, tight press of his thighs on Derek’s dick was his undoing. Derek jerked forward, stilling for a minute as the first shot or two unloaded against the back of Stiles’ balls. Slowly thrusting in and out, he spread his cum through the channel between Stiles’ thighs as he milked his cock for the rest of his orgasm. When he was finished, he stilled with his cock slowly softening between them, breath heavy on the back of Stiles’ sweaty back. 

“And you thought you were dirty before this….” Derek joked, his hand petting Stiles’ side as he caught his breath. Stiles laughed in front of him and kissed the knuckles of the hand he was still holding. 

“I thought I was tired before this also, but apparently I underestimated what having you back to human form would do to my energy level.” Stiles responded. 

“Now we’ve got to get up and clean up.” Derek said almost sadly. 

“Nuh uh, sleepy time.” Stiles mumbled, turning over to his stomach and burying his head into the mattress. 

“Not if you lay like that….” Derek warned, smile lighting up his face. He gave a quick, playful slap to one of Stiles’ ass cheeks and delighted in the indignant squeal he heard muffled into the covers even as the body part in question jumped in surprise. Stiles turned his head and looked at Derek over his shoulder. 

“Cut it out, Mister. Go get a washcloth.” He ordered, trying to look stern. Derek nodded, but couldn’t resist bending over and giving the soft fat of Stiles’ ass a teasing nip with his teeth before he got up. He still ached, but he felt much better. His healing was still pushing his body towards normal. 

As he grabbed the wash cloth and turned on the hot water at the sink, his stomach gave a grumble of need. His eyes landed on the tub and he felt two warring desires stir inside of him. It was an easy decision after that. Turning off the water and returning to the bedroom, Derek quickly cleaned up the mess between Stiles thighs while he hummed approvingly. He watched his love sigh and nestle into the mattress, his body languid and relaxed. 

“I want a bath” Derek said aloud, his thumbs moving in kneading circles between Stiles’ shoulder blades. “But I’m also fucking starving.” 

“Start a bath, then go make a sandwich, eat it standing up, and then bathe. Multitasking one-oh-one.” Stiles replied between small moans of pleasure from the feeling of Derek’s thumbs working over his muscles. 

“Mmm… Good idea. Do you want one?” Derek asked as his thumbs moved lower and his fingers spanned over Stiles lower back. 

“A bath or a sandwich?” Stiles asked, eyes closed as he enjoyed the feeling of Derek’s hands on his body. 

“Either. Both?” 

“Both sound awesome but I’m not sure I have the energy to do either. I don’t have werewolf healing.” 

Smoothing his hands back up Stiles back to his shoulders, Derek leaned over and hooked his chin into the space between neck and shoulder. He brushed a soft kiss there, enjoying the fucked out smell of his lover beneath him. 

“I’ll take care of you now.” Derek answered simply before sitting up and heading back into the bathroom to follow Stiles instructions on how to efficiently get both of his needs accomplished efficiently. He turned on the water, setting somewhere in the middle between hot and medium temperature. Once he set the tub to fill, he padded downstairs and towards the kitchen. He notice leaves and dried mud near the side door that had been swept in a pile, but not gotten rid of. It occurred to him then that he had no idea how Stiles had managed to get him from the beach back up to the house. He mechanically made two sandwiches as he tried to sort out what he could remember about that night and what he couldn’t. He remembered the exhilaration of hunting, stalking, fighting….He remembered getting his wolf to agree to a half shift to offer Stiles The Bite, but… but he couldn’t remember what Stiles said! He knew he answered, but he didn’t know what that answer might be. 

Putting the sandwiches on a plate, he made his way back upstairs. He set the plate down next to Stiles and shook him to wake him enough so he could eat. As soon as he was sure Stiles was awake enough not to choke, Derek made his way back into the bathroom to check the water temperature. It was nice and hot without being scalding and the tub was about halfway full. Feeling a bit decadent, Derek added some of the sweet herb-smelling bubble bath and left the tub to continue filling as he made his way back towards his own sandwich. Stiles was almost two-thirds through his and dull eyed as he munched on automatic pilot. Derek picked up his own sandwich and ate it almost without tasting it, as hungry as he was. They sat in silence, chewing and swallowing their food, as the water continued to fall in the background. Stiles finished his sandwich before Derek and was lying on his back staring towards the ceiling. Derek couldn’t help but let his eyes travel up and down the naked skin, reveling in the fact that Stiles felt comfortable enough with him to not go running for his clothes to cover up as soon as they were finished. 

Derek had noticed over the years that Stiles had a tendency to keep his body covered up. He didn’t whip off his shirt at every provocation and even in situations where it would perfectly normal for him to stay topless, he generally put a shirt on as soon as he could. Derek didn’t know what the source of Stiles’ modesty was, but he was glad that he felt comfortable enough with Derek to stay naked. Derek didn’t think he’d ever get tired of letting his eyes roam over every square millimeter of Stiles’ body. The moles and gentle creases where his muscles formed we endlessly fascinating to Derek.

“Hey….” Stiles said, stilling looking upward. He was grinning and flicked a quick glance at Derek before pointing above them. “It’s snowing….” 

Derek looked up at the skylight and watched as puffs of white settled against the glass. He looked back down at Stiles and took in the expression of childish glee that was on his face. Snorting at his adorkableness, Derek pushed the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth and went to shut off the water. He came back to the bed and stood in front of Stiles’ supine form. 

“Come on. Take a bath with me.” 

“We’re going to get that water fucking filthy” Stiles replied, scrunching up his nose in distaste. 

“It’ll get off the first layer of grime. Come on. It’ll be nice.” Derek replied, holding out his hands for Stiles to grasp. Sighing, Stiles let himself be pulled into a standing position with his body pressed against Derek’s. 

“But after, we nap, right?” Stiles asked, sighing into Derek’s shoulder. 

“After, we nap.” 

“You fucking promise? Cause I swear to God, Der, if you don’t let me sleep I will die.” 

“I promise. Come on. Let’s go enjoy the water while it’s warm.” 

“Make our own Derek and Stiles’ dirty body bouillabaisse you mean.” Stiles grumbled as they walked into the bathroom. 

“For someone who just got an orgasm AND a sandwich, you’re awfully whiny…” Derek teased as he swung a leg over the side of the tub and slipped into the hot water. Stiles stuck his tongue out at him in response and then climbed over the edge and into the tub as well. 

“Hooooollllyyy fuuucckkkk this feels good.” Stiles groaned in pleasure, sinking down to his neck and leaning back against Derek’s chest. Derek allowed himself a private smile at how Stiles relaxed against him. He smoothed his wet hands up and down Stiles arms and over his chest under the water, hugging his body close and caging the boy with his legs. Stiles hummed his approval and laid his head back onto Derek’s shoulder, eyes closed and skin flushing at the touch of the hot water. 

“Best. Idea. Ever.” Stiles murmured as his hands smoothed up and down the outside of Derek’s thighs absentmindedly. Derek relished the touch, leaning his own head back against the edge of the tub and relaxing. After a while Derek broke the silence that had settled comfortably between them. 

“So how did you get me back up here from the beach?” He asked softly, jostling them to grab a bar of soap. 

“I had to fireman carry you…and honestly Derek, you’re not fat, but you cannot gain another pound of muscle. If that ever happens again I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to lift your furry butt if you weigh more. Holy crap.” 

Derek chuckled at the visual, even as he leaned Stiles forward and partially out of the water so he could smooth the wet soap over his shoulders and back. 

“You could’ve devised a sled, I’m sure.” Derek joked, his hands smoothing the suds over and over Stiles’ skin. 

“Fuck that. Just keep it up with the healthy living, sweetheart. That’s all I ask.” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Derek replied, tugging Stiles to turn around and straddle him so he could get his chest. 

“You’re so good to me.” Stiles said, turning and wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck. Derek laughed and started smoothing to soap over Stiles’ skin again. He went down each arm and then started on his chest. He looked up briefly to take in Stiles’ expression and was struck momentarily still by the fondness he found there. Blushing, Derek replaced the soap on the dish at the side of the tub and tried to avoid Stiles gaze. 

“Nuh uh, you’re going to look at me and see how much I love you, Sour Wolf.” Stiles said, grabbing his chin and tilting his head up, waiting until Derek met his eyes. Derek drug his eyes up slowly from Stiles chest to his neck and jaw, to his lips and over his nose, finally arriving at his caramel colored eyes. 

“So when are you going to ask?” Stiles prompted, his expression still smiling but somehow more serious. 

“Ask what?” Derek evaded, trying to act like it didn’t matter. He didn’t want Stiles to reject his offer of The Bite and make it seem like a Big Deal. 

“Don’t be coy. I know you didn’t hear me when I answered your offer for The Bite. Just ask, Derek.” Stiles said, his voice softening as his hand fell from Derek’s chin to rest over his wildly thumping heart. 

“Okay…” Derek started, swallowing past his sudden anxiety at what the answer might be. “Do you want The Bite?” 

“I think I do. Yeah. Yes.” Stiles answered, eyes tensed for Derek’s response. Derek didn’t say anything at first, didn’t know what to say at all, so he pulled Stiles against him and hugged him, trying to let his love seep through his skin into Stiles’ so he’d know. Derek tried to think past roaring in his brain, tried to block out the overwhelming fear that threatened to choke him. He didn’t realize until that moment that there had been a part of him hoping Stiles would say no. He didn’t realize that along with the wave of joy that came from his wolf, there was an undertow of dread from his human side. 

He tried to school his expression as he felt Stiles pull back and out of the embrace. 

“Are you happy? Sad? Relieved? Disappointed?” Stiles asked, smiling but starting to make more bold hand movements which meant he was also anxious. 

“I’m happy…. And I’m scared.” Derek admitted, his arms tensing to hold Stiles steady if he tried to bolt. 

“Excellent. Me too. That’s a good starting place.” Stiles joked, this time his movements easier and his smile more genuine. 

“What are you scared of?” Derek asked, starting to cup water in his palm to rub over Stiles’ skin to remove the soap suds. He needed a distraction, something to do with his hands so he didn’t attack Stiles with either more sex or intense security cuddling. 

“Probably the same thing you are. What if I die? What if The Bite doesn’t take?” Stiles asked, his expression serious as he watched Derek clean him. 

“Yeah.” As ineloquent as it was, Derek couldn’t say much else. That was exactly what he was scared of. That was the part that he wasn’t sure he was willing to gamble. As much as he thought Stiles would make a wonderful wolf, how did he know that he’d even get the chance to be one? 

_**The Spirit that chooses which to claim and which to cull would not deny you your mate.**_ ****

The wolf hardly ever spoke to him in words. The dialogue during its courting ritual of Stiles was the most they’d spoken since Derek had first attained full shift. He could feel his wolf’s emotions, but he rarely actually spoke to him.

_How can you be sure? The Bite killed Paige._

_**She was not your mate. The human Stiles is. The Spirit will claim him and he will be a glorious wolf equal to me. Trust your instincts.**_

“You there, Der?” Stiles was saying, a hand waving in front of Derek’s face to snap him out of his trance. 

“Sorry…sorry. My wolf… was talking to me.” Derek knew he sounded a little unsure, and he was. He was stunned that his wolf had initiated a conversation over the matter, but also unsure whether what he had doled out was knowledge or presumption through hubris. 

“Well, what did he say?” Stiles prompted after Derek remained silent. 

“He thinks you’ll be recognized by the wolf magic and your transformation will be successful because you’re my mate.” Derek watched Stiles look at him in good natured confusion. 

“So he thinks I’m a shoe in, huh? But I’m not actually your mate yet. We haven’t gone through the ritual. Does that mean we have to wait?” Stiles asked. 

“Not… really. I think since we both marked you, you’re technically claimed. For all intents and purposes, we’re on our walk down the aisle. Wait! How did he mark you? I don’t remember marking you for him….” Derek eyes looked all over Stiles body, searching for a bite mark or a scratch or any sign that his wolf had marked him. Even though he couldn’t see or remember the mark, he knew that his wolf had managed to do it. It would have continued to call Stiles ‘potential mate’ otherwise. 

“Ugh, yeah. He definitely got me. You were still half shifted while I was carrying you back to the cabin. I was trudging up the hill and I felt something warm spread across my chest… only to realize it was pee. Your wolf fucking peed on me. It was disgusting.” Stiles looked incredibly horrified by the whole experience. Derek felt his wolf chuffing its amusement in the background of his mind and he too grinned at the expression on Stiles face. 

“So no water sports?” Derek asked, bending forward to bump his nose against Stiles. 

“Nope, not unless they involve actual water that was not filtered through a human OR WOLF body!” Stiles declared indignantly. 

Derek chuckled and kissed him softly, pulling him close to press their bodies together. He felt his dick give a twitch at interest at the smooth slide of Stiles body over his. 

“Don’t even think about it, you promised me a nap.” Stiles mumbled through the kiss, breaking away to back off of Derek’s body slightly. 

“I can think about it… but I’ll also let you sleep.” Derek replied, stopping Stiles from leaving his lap completely. 

“Mmhm, you can dream about it you mean. I’m not the only one who needs more rest. But when we wake up and I have an iota of energy, I’m going to lay you out and take my time with you.” Stiles promised, leaning over the space between them to kiss Derek filthily. Derek’s dick had definitely taken notice now. 

“Tease.” He breathed as Stiles backed off, standing and getting out of the tub. 

“Flirt.” Stiles said over his shoulder as he wrapped a towel around his body. 

\---

Derek watched the rise and fall of Stiles back as he slept on his stomach beside him. As good as his word, as soon as he landed back on the mattress he got to the business of getting back to sleep. Derek was still a little restless, but he stayed near Stiles and knew he should probably go ahead and try for a few more hours or rest himself. First, however, he grabbed his phone off the bedside table and send out a text. 

**Derek:** _(sent)_ I don’t know how to ask this… but Stiles said he wants to become a wolf. Does that sound off any alarms for you banshee?  
 **Lydia:** _(received)_ Not currently. But I’ll keep you update the closer we get to the ceremony. By the way, I have some questions about the ceremony when you have a chance…  
 **Derek:** _(sent)_ Later. I’m about to go to sleep.  
 **Lydia:** _(received)_ Not too much later. Tomorrow, in fact. You’ll talk to me about it tomorrow. AFTER you open my Christmas gift to you two finally.  
 **Derek:** _(sent)_ Will do. Thanks.

Feeling relieved that at least the banshee seemed to agree with his wolf on the subject of Stiles werewolf transformation, Derek set his phone down again and scooted down the bed and closer to the boy who was quickly becoming his entire world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so as I said on tumblr and on the pre-update for Ch 10, I'm going to move my updates to Sundays by 7pm Central time instead of Fridays by midnight. My life is kind of insane right now with all the hardcore adulting I'm doing so it's making Fridays pretty hard to manage. Thank you all for your understanding!
> 
> Next week is going to be EVEN WORSE because i have my BFFF coming in from out of town to visit. So next update should be by March 15th, 2016 by 7 pm. I will try to get it posted earlier but seriously, no promises. After next week I will start the new Sunday scheduling for updates. 
> 
> Come see me at tumblr! I love talking to people about Sterek and Destiel and I'm always open to just chat about whatever. Over there I'm also [SkinSharpenedTeeth](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com).


	11. Under Me, Over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia's Box, Mating Ceremony plans, Purification, Dirty Sexy Good Times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3-16-16 Update: So I've gone through and done some editing. Nothing major has changed so if you read it previously, all the plot points remain. Mainly, it was just the wording here and there that was shifted around. 
> 
> As always, un-beta'd. Feel free to drop me a line as I am but human and therefore fallible.

*****Stiles’ POV*****  
JANUARY

Stiles blamed Lydia’s present for the thoughts that seemed to persist lately. Mainly thougts that centered around a naked, writhing Derek. Before they’d torn off the brightly colored paper surrounding the veritable Pandora’s Box she’d gifted Derek and he with, these sorts of thoughts had yet to occur to him. He thought about Derek, of course, and he even thought about Derek naked and writhing, of course, but never had he included a mask or a ball gag or a jeweled butt blug. After the tape had been cut from the box flaps and the contents had been gently lifted one at a time onto the kitchen counter, Stiles’ brain was flooded with lust and filth and _ideas_. It had occurred to him only after fingering the soft, padded leather bracelets which attached to the under-the-bed restraint kit that he’d never even topped Derek the old fashioned way, much less with gear in tow. The logical part of himself that didn’t want to get carried away with the fantasy told him that Derek was an alpha and probably didn’t like others taking the lead with him. That part also warned him that Derek was obviously a control freak with trust issues that might filter into him always being hyper-dominant. Stiles felt himself nodding along, agreeing with these assessments and filing away his discoveries, but the other part of him that was also a control freak, and who had secret, filthy fantasies about dominating his alpha, kept whispering what all he’d like to do, exactly, if he could get Derek on his back and underneath him. 

Later that evening when he found himself spread across Derek’s chest, breath calming even as his skin still buzzed from his orgasm, his mind kicked back into gear. He had always luxuriated in the boneless pleasure of being filled and marked by Derek. When Stiles stood in front of the mirror and he found a small mark or bruise that hadn’t been there before, his fingers ghosting over it as if he could remember the exact moment it had been made, was he felt a deep primal satisfaction spread through him. He felt himself wanting to catalogue the spots as if they were tokens of Derek’s love for him, a physical representation of his arduous feelings. He knew that as soon as he got up and saw his reflection minutes or hours from then that he’d have a couple new trophies to spy. The idea of Derek doing the same was folly because of his healing, but Stiles couldnt deny wishing he could leave more than his scent on Derek’s's skin. Grinning to himself, he turned his head and buried it into Derek’s shoulder, kissing the skin there and tasting the salt. At least he could leave something. Derek’s hands stroked idly up and down his spine, petting him and raising goosebumps now that his skin was cooling off.

“Right now, even when I’m fucked out of my mind, the feeling of you on top of me makes me want to spread you open and bury myself back inside of you.” Derek murmured against Stiles' shoulder, even as he slid his hands down Stiles' back to kneed and squeeze his ass cheeks.

Propping himself up, Stiles kissed Derek slowly and thoroughly, even as his hips started to roll minutely against the feel of Derek’s warm, wide palms.

“Have you ever… ah!” Stiles started, only to lose his train of thought when Derek’s fingers dipped closer to his still loose hole, pulling gently as they moved away and back in again.

“Have I ever…?” Derek prompted, kissing Stiles’ neck and shoulders. His teeth were gently pinching as they found places where the skin gave enough to be pulled in and Stiles found himself responding. He didn’t remember ever wanting someone the way he wanted Derek. He never seemed to tire, never seemed to stop wanting the man underneath him.

“I’ll stop if you don’t answer…” Derek teased, two fingers dipping into Stiles shallowly and then back out to smooth around his rim while the other hand glided back up his body to wrap around his back and hold him flush against Derek’s chest. Stiles whined at the idea of having to form coherent thought at a time like this, his body already aching for Derek’s fingers to push in deeper and fill him further.

“Have you ever thought about letting me fuck you, Derek?” Stiles groaned out, not sure that’s exactly where he meant to start to conversation of getting Derek to let restrain him and wreck him. He didn’t know what he expected when he asked, maybe for Derek to pause and for them to have a lengthy discussion about the merits of bottoming, but he did not expect Derek to just run with it.

“You want to do this to me, Stiles?” Derek asked, a bit breathless, as he added a finger and sank them deep into Stiles’ still slick entrance. Derek was rolling his hips in tandem with the pumping of his fingers, his cock sliding between the tight press of their stomachs. Stiles was pushing back onto the fingers, reveling in the stretch and feeling of being filled again so soon after their last bout.

“I want to do that. I want to take you apart on my tongue, Derek. I want those thighs squeezing my hips, trying to keep me from pulling out before I fuck back into you. I want to see you bouncing on my lap and I want to see you spread out before me on the bed, knees spread by your ribs, body jerking every time I fuck into you. I want to tie you up so you can’t touch yourself, I want to see you cum on my dick so bad, Derek.” Stiles had kept up his litany of filth even as he pulled himself off of Derek’s fingers and reached behind him grab at Derek’s cock and position it once again at his entrance. He sank down onto heated length, his eyes rolling back briefly at the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure he felt from getting Derek in him twice in an afternoon.

“You want to do this to me, Stiles?” Derek asked, slowly pumping himself in and out of Stiles. Stiles could only gasp and nod, his body on autopilot as it sought out another orgasm. Derek growled low in his throat and rolled them, hips pressing Stiles deep into the mattress. He hooked his hands behind Stiles' knees and pushed Stiles' legs up towards the sides of his ribcage.

“You want to fuck me like this?” Derek asked, starting to piston hard in and out of Stiles’ body. Stiles felt like he was dying in the best possible manner. Reaching his hands above himself, he gripped the edge of the mattress, turning his face into his bicep to muffle his cry when Derek changed the angle and began rolling his hips again in long, languid pulls that hit just the right spots.

“I want to fuck you any way you’ll let me. God, but I want you to fuck me too. Please keep going, Derek, I’m getting close. You feel so fucking good.” Stiles mewled, his teeth gritting as he started squeezing his muscles to milk Derek’s orgasm out of him.

“I’m not going to stop. I want to be thinking about this later, I want you to feel so empty without my dick inside you” Derek grunted out, his body betraying how close he was to coming a second time. Stiles just gripped the edge of the mattress tighter, his eyes closing as he relished the burn of Derek’s dick gliding over his prostate repeatedly. His mouth opened as he wordlessly started the final descent into coming, his body pushing itself closer as white noise filled his mind. The sharp pain of Derek’s human teeth digging into his chest muscle startled him, pushed him over the edge, a sound like a howl scraping out of his throat while his body seized and released, coating his stomach with warm wetness. The loud grunting above him, followed by the stilled, full feeling in his lower body let him know that Derek had found his own release. He relaxed, letting himself enjoy that certain buzz again. He felt absolutely no reason to move.

Derek fell beside him, close enough to pull Stiles into a kiss and then drag his arm down from above him so they could intertwine their fingers between their bodies. After a beat, Stiles felt himself drowsing contentedly, Derek’s body warm against his side.

“Do you really want to top me?” Derek asked quietly, his voice still a little rough from exhaustion.

“Mmhm. But not right now. Now is sleepy times.” Stiles replied, pulling his hand from Derek’s so that he could roll to his side. He felt Derek move into the space behind him, fitting his legs behind Stiles’ and wrapping a hand around his waist.

“Do you really want to restrain me while you do it?” He heard Derek whisper next to his ear. Stiles was quickly heading towards the land of Nod, but he felt he should wake up enough to answer these questions.

“I would like to try. I think it might be fun. I never really got into bondage with anyone else. I mean, if it doesn’t even sound kind of fun to you then we don’t have to do it. That restraint kit Lydia got us just really got my imagination going, I guess.” Stiles answered through a yawn, placing one of his hands over Derek’s and threading their fingers together.

“I’ll think about it. I would love for you to fuck me, but I’m a little hesitant about being tied up.”

Stiles hummed in response, then nestled deeper into Derek’s embrace. He couldn’t even imagine having more sex at that moment, so sleeping seemed like a good option in the meantime.

\---

The next day while Stiles was watching Derek cut up some wood to add to their diminished cord, his phone rang in his pocket. Checking the caller ID, he hit the talk button and pressed the speaker to his ear. 

“Good Day, Mistress Lydia. To what do I owe this honor?” Stiles jested, eyes not straying from where Derek was working. Something about men doing manual labor made Stiles into an ogling perv.

“Stiles, stop that. First, did you finally open my gift? I’m taking from your good mood that you did….”

“Yes, we opened it. We haven’t done much with the actual implements, however, but it definitely has fueled my imagination. Your thank you card is in the mail.”

“Card?!” she screeched, sounding very affronted that her gift did not warrant a basket.

“Card. Though thoughtful, a little overwhelming to a new couple. I’m sure you’ll do better with the ceremony preparations. That’ll earn you a gift basket for sure!” Stiles joked, knowing he was revving her up.

“Stiles Stilinski, I cannot believe you! That was the nicest BDSM starter kit on the market. Have you felt those silicone butt plugs? Like butter!”

“I know, I know! I was just messing with you. Jeez, Lyd!” Derek was giving him a curious side-eye from where he was working. Stiles grinned at him.

“Ugh, you’re impossible!” She huffed even though the fire was out of her voice.

“Yeah, but it’s part of my charm. So, anything else you called to talk about or just curious for how we were getting along with the flogger you bought us?”

“No. I see we’re coming up to the last month before the Mating Ceremony between you two and I need to know how if you’re choosing ass or mouth for it.”

Stiles almost dropped the phone, but instead he just pulled it away from his ear and stared at it in horror and confusion.

“WHAT?!?!” He finally burst out, looking over at Derek’s concerned face briefly before Lydia started talking again and he has to put all of his attention on _that_ conversation.

“Well, I’ve been looking through some research I did on the whole Mating Ceremony and I came across a reference to the month prior which—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on, Lydia. Let me get Derek over here and put you on speaker. He hasn’t said a word about any of this so I’m not one hundred percent sure he knows anything about it.” He jumped in before waving Derek over, who was already looking at him puzzled, eyebrows drawn together in a deep v.As soon as Derek was standing in front of him, hands on his hips, Stiles gave Lydia the go ahead to start talking. He made himself stare at Derek’s boots because he did not need to be distracted by the sight of his tight jeans and sweat soaked tank during this discussion.

“Oookay. As I was saying, I did some research for the Mating Ceremony since I’m putting it all together for you guys with some minor help from the other pack members, and I came across some pieces talking about how the month prior to the ceremony was a purification month and depending on what mode of purification the participants decided on, you might need to square away personal preferences and such the month before.” Stiles dared a glance up at Derek to gauge his reaction, but he still looked mystified as to what Lydia was referring to.

“So Derek, do you know what I’m talking about?” Lydia asked, jolting Stiles from his staring.

“Uh, no. I actually don’t. Maybe Cora would know since she’s in a more established pack down in Brazil, but I wasn’t aware of a purification month. Did you find anything about what that actually entails?” Derek asked, folding his arms across his chest and distracting Stiles momentarily by the bulging of his biceps.

“Well yes I did, thank you for asking. Cora was actually the one I asked since I had to contact her anyway over whether she’d be making it up for the ceremony.”

“Is she?” Derek cut in before Lydia could continue.

“Yep, and she’s bringing her own potential mate.” Derek nodded and quieted down. Stiles watched him for a minute, knowing he was lost in his own thoughts.

“May I continue?” Lydia’s voice chirped over the speaker.

“Yes, please, sorry.” Derek responded for the both of them.

“So apparently the purification ritual is essential to a successful mating bond. The purpose is to take away a distraction so that you can make your decision about whether you really want to join with the other person or whether you think it would be a mistake. The ritual can take two avenues. You can both decide to give up the power of speech or you can give up the ability to enact physical love. You both need to be in agreement on how to proceed or the magic will fail. It’s a big deal/not a big deal. If you can’t decide, it automatically defaults to taking away the physical aspect of your relationship. But, if you want to take away talking and you both agree, then you’ll be rendered mute.” When Lydia finished, Stiles and Derek were silent for long moments. Finally, Stiles piped up.

“What about texting?”

“I think that goes against the nature of the agreement. You don’t want magic to take away your messaging abilities” Lydia replied.

“So on the other hand, we’ll both get an acute case of ED, is that what I’m hearing?” Stiles asked, his free hand carding through his hair.

“Yep.” Stiles thought it rude that she sounded so gleeful at the prospect of he and Derek being magically castrated for a month.

“Excellent. Okay. Starts February first I take it?” Stiles asked, knowing Lydia would pick up the sass from his reply.

“Actually, it starts in about a week when the full moon hits. It’s the Wolf Moon, you know. It’ll end on the following full moon, the Hunger Moon or Snow Moon, and then in the week following we’ll hold the Mating Ceremony. So as you can see, if you’re going to choose speech then I really need to know ASAP.” she finished, waiting for their answer. Stiles looked up at Derek a little lost.

“Lydia, we’ll call you as soon as we make a decision. Until then, act like you’re going to not be able to communicate with us and email any questions or decisions you think need our approval in the meantime.” Derek didn’t ask, he commanded. This was Alpha Derek who actually had some leadership ability and this was one of the many parts of Derek that make Stiles knees week.

“Okay. I can do that. I’ll talk to you two soon.” She replied, hanging up without further ado. Stiles dropped his phone onto the porch beside him and hid his face with his hands, breath rushing between them as he let out a heavy sigh. He felt the wood dip as Derek settled next to him. Leaning over, Stiles took his hands away from his face and leaned his head onto Derek’s shoulder. The skin was cool, but still slightly tacky was the drying sweat. Stiles would be disgusted normally, but with Derek it just didn’t seem to matter to him.

“I don’t think I can give up touching you.” Stiles started, snaking his arm under Derek’s to rest on his denim covered knee.

“Not being able to have sex doesn’t mean we won’t be able to touch, Stiles.” Derek replied, his arm coming up to rest across Stiles' shoulders and draw him in nearer.

“Yeah, but it’ll still suck. I just started getting to have sex with you! I just started getting all hotness all over me! I don’t want to lose that! I mean, I just went weeks without it while you were in wolf-mode! I don’t want to lose it again!” Stiles whined. He knew he was being childish, but between not talking and not fucking, he was pretty sure that not fucking would be the one to make him most ill-tempered and unlovable.

“Do you really think not talking for a month would be better?” Derek asked. Stiles sighed heavily, trying to objectively weigh the options. Derek had been a non-talker for so long that Stiles was mildly concerned what not having a voice for a month would do to them in the long run. In the same way, Stiles already knew he didn’t need to be alone with his own mind. He talked to fill the silence so that his brain wouldn’t go into the ugly parts of his psyche where he always seemed to want to dwell when no distraction was offered over long periods of time. He’d had enough of that when Derek was a wolf, thank you very much.

On the other hand, talking! Stiles loved hearing Derek talk and loved being able to verbally respond! He’d gone so many years not being able to touch Derek and had been perfectly capable of living a rather full life in spite of it. Would a month really matter that much? At least they could answer questions from the pack and they could murmur sweet nothings to each other at night… in bed… where they wouldn’t be fucking…or having sex…or making love… or anything interesting in the slightest that involved below-waist antics… The horror of losing his ability to see Derek naked, hard, and panting because of him, even for a minute, was taking over Stiles mind.

“Stiles? What worst case scenario are you envisioning exactly?” Derek prompted. Stiles knew he must have a horrible look on his face, but the thoughts were equally as awful.

“I think I would like to give up talking. Seriously. If I can’t talk to you, as least I can blow you nine ways from Sunday.” He joked. Derek smiled, looking relieved.

“I’m so glad that’s what you want too. Fuck, I seriously… I _need_ you right now. My wolf needs you. Not touching would just drive me crazy. Not seeing you be affected by my touching would be worse.”

“Just don’t go back to caveman status when this is all over? Your voice is one of my favorite sounds in the universe.” Stiles replied, cupping the back of Derek’s neck so he could pull him closer and kiss his lips. The salt from Derek’s earlier activities still clung to them, making Stiles want to cover Derek’s lips with his over and over again until he could only taste himself on them.

“I need to finish the wood.” Derek mumbled into the onslaught of kisses. Stiles hummed his agreement, but didn’t stop kissing him. He instead maneuvered himself onto Derek’s lap so that he could kiss down into Derek’s mouth more thoroughly. Derek steadied him, his hands at his waist while he let Stiles take what he wanted from his mouth. After a few minutes, when the kisses were turning dirty and both boys knew they were toeing the line between stopping and not being able to stop, they drew apart. Stiles leaned his forehead against Derek’s, panting slightly. The red-tinged eyes that met his made him tense to hold back a shiver. It made him think about his agreement.

“When will you give me The Bite?” he asked, pulling back to give them some room to breathe.

“I was thinking about after the ceremony… once we’ve gotten a honeymoon period.” Derek answered, the heat in his eyes dissipating as he spoke about it.

“You’re worried.” Stiles stated.

“I am. But even if I weren’t nervous about it, I don’t really feel like we need to enter into a non-talking month with you as a newly bitten wolf… or go through a highly emotional mating ceremony with you as a newly-bitten wolf. Is that okay?” Derek was looking at him like he was bracing for an argument.

“No, that makes sense. Honestly, I’m nervous too. Maybe instead of setting a date to it, we just agree that when the time feels right, we’ll do it. Otherwise, it’s not a big deal. I accepted The Bite because I know it means a lot to your wolf, but I don’t need the bite in order to love your entire being with my entire being.” Derek leaned up and kissed Stiles in response. It was soft and chaste, but perfect.

“Text Lydia. I’m going to finish up the fire wood.”

\---

Dinner that night was subdued as each thought over the day. Stiles had made Shepard’s Pie along with some roasted vegetables which he found to be one of the better dinners he had ever made. After he’d texted Lydia their decision to give up speech for the purification month, she’d rapid-fired him questions and instructions about the upcoming ceremony. His head was reeling by the time he’d sat down for dinner with Derek and by the distracted way Derek was staring at his fork, it seemed he’d gotten similar texts himself. Stiles was beginning to think he'd been too hasty. Did he really think he could go without speaking for a month? The dread was starting to settle as he moved around the last few pieces of zucchini on his plate; playing with his food more than anything. 

“Stiles,” Derek started, snapping Stiles out of his mind by the hesitant sound in his voice. For a flashing, dread filled moment Stiles wondered if Derek was going to call the whole thing off.

“I wanted to talk to you about…what we talked about last night.” Derek continued, swallowing visably. His nerves were showing and that made Stiles curious. Was this about the fucking or the restraint?

“Okay. I’m all ears.” Stiles responded, setting down his fork to put his full attention on Derek.

“I’ve never bottomed for a man before. Kate liked to play with dildos and strap-ons, but she was it. With every guy I’ve been with, I’ve been on top. So I don’t know…what your expectations are for topping me…or if I’ll be able to fulfill them. I’m obviously not a virgin, but I just… I don’t know if I’ll be any good. I wanted to say that if I’m not, I’m sorry. It just didn’t ever come up with anyone else after Kate and I was kind of a fucking mess anyway to go seeking anything with that level of vulnerability so yeah, I just wanted to get that out there…” Derek trailed off while Stiles gaped at him. He’d been suspecting that Derek wouldn’t have a ton of experience bottoming, but none? None since he was a teenager with an older, abusive girlfriend? Fuck, that was a lot to take in; a lot to make up for.

“Okay… so are you even turned on by the idea of bottoming or is this something you would only do for me because I like it?” Stiles asked, a little nervous. He didn’t want Derek to do something just because Stiles was into it, but Stiles would be lying if he said the idea of Derek not wanting to bottom at all wouldn’t be a bummer.

“No, no… the idea intrigues me. The thought of you over me, doing the things that I do to you…” Derek sighed, smiling over at Stiles a little shyly, “it makes me feel breathless. I just didn’t want you to do it and not enjoy it because I’m inexperienced.”

“Derek, if you do nothing but moan, sigh, grunt, and groan underneath me the entire time and make me do all the work…. I will still fucking love it. If you participate more, awesome, but I don’t expect you to break out the Monster Dong and show me how many inches you can in a single bound. I want this because it turns me on and if it turns you on then we’ll do it, but if it doesn’t or you start to feel overwhelmed or something doesn’t feel right or really just about any tiny inkling of ‘nope’ flits through your brain at any point, please for the love of God tell me! You won’t hurt my feelings, you won’t make me mad, and I will love you no matter what, but communication is absolutely a must here. Are we agreed?” Stiles had grabbed one of Derek’s hands in both of his as he spoke. He needed to be anchored, he needed to be reassured that Derek was listening and a physical touch seemed to be the best way. Derek just stared at him, wonder transforming his features.

“I love that you can surprise me. But yes, communication. Got it.” Derek replied finally before standing up and starting to walk away from the dining room table. Stiles still had a hold of his hand and stopped him by tugging on it gently.

“Where are you going?” Stiles asked, smiling up at the ball of sunshine he was going to get to keep forever.

“To uhm… prepare.” Derek said, blushing a little around the tips of his ears.

“Let’s digest and wait a while. There’s no hurry. Let’s go sit out on the covered deck and you can keep me warm.” Stiles suggested. He didn’t think now was the time to go into a fully detailed explanation on cleanliness and when it was better to “wash up” after eating and such. This was already kind of a vulnerable, weird situation for Derek. There was no need to make it unnecessarily weirder.

They walked through to the porch and sat on the outdoor couch, Stiles snuggled in close to Derek so he could steal some of this ample werewolf heat. They sat in silence, looking out at the field behind the cabin and enjoying being near each other.

“So have you ever been to any other mating ceremonies?” Stiles asked quietly, looking up at Derek while he waited for a response.

“Only a few that I remember.”

“What were they like? Were they here?” Stiles closed his eyes as he tried to imagine it.

“No. They were both at the house. I don’t remember much about the ceremony itself. I remember two people exchanging gifts and bites with an elder present to bestow the blessing. I remember everyone clapping and yipping…. Mostly I remember afterwards. We feasted and we ran as a pack. There was music and dancing. I remember it being a pretty joyous occasion. Both ceremonies I went to were mating bonds that came from love, not politics so I have no frame of reference to how one of those would differ. But they were fun, not too terribly different from human weddings that I’ve attended. Instead of kissing, we’ll bestow mating bites to one another. The gifts are pretty much provided for us, they’re symbolic more than anything.”

“Do you think Lydia will let us have a hootenanny?” Stiles wondered aloud, grinning up at Derek. Derek laughed, his head tilting back and the filtered moonlight glinting off of his teeth.

“Probably not. It will probably be very formal and boring. But at least there will be alcohol at the end and the whole being together forever thing.” Derek’s arms tightened around Stiles shoulders as he said the last part, his lips swooping down to steal a kiss from Stiles.

“We should’ve had Erica plan it. She would’ve let us have a hootenanny.” Stiles said, pretending to pout through the kisses he was still receiving. The kisses were small, wet pecks that were drawing him in and begging him to deepen the kisses until they were both naked and breathless. He pulled himself back reluctantly, wanting nothing more than to give in and get things going. Running his hands through Derek’s soft, dark hair and resting them on the back of his neck, Stiles looked up at him though what he knew were dilated pupils.

“How about you go upstairs and take a nice long bath or shower? I want you relaxed for me when you come to bed tonight.” Stiles suggested, massaging the muscles at the base of Derek’s skull.

“What are you going to do while I’m getting all clean and pliant for you?” Derek asked, eyes fluttering closed as Stiles began to work his hands lower over his neck and beginning to kneed at the muscles on the tops of his shoulders.

“Maybe read. Maybe game plan. Who knows. All you need to know is when you get out, I’m going to take care of you. You’re going to feel so good tonight. I’m going to spoil you rotten.” Stiles promised as Derek hummed along with his words. Derek’s muscles were relaxing under his fingers, slowly softening under his touch and begging him to continue.

“You’re already spoiling me. If you keep that up, I’m going to fall asleep right here.” Hands came up and gently encircled Stiles’ wrists, stopping him from continuing. In silent apology, Derek withdrew Stiles’ hands from his shoulders and kissed each palm before giving them back to Stiles. Stiles just smiled at him, waiting to get his hands back before getting up off the couch. He held his hands out to help Derek stand also, even though he knew Derek wouldn’t need an iota of help, but the feeling of Derek’s hands warm and sliding against his as he stood up made his heart flutter a little. Stiles found himself beginning to feel nervous about what was going to happen. He knew Derek was nervous about not being very good, but Stiles was beginning to feel the same. What if Derek hated it? What if Derek didn’t want him like that? What if he hurt him by going too fast or pushing too hard? What if he triggered memories of bad touching exes?

All the 'what if’s started piling up in his brain as Derek and he walked through the house to the stairs.

“I’m going to take care of the dishes real quick. I’ll meet you up there in a bit.” Derek nodded and smiled, leaning in to kiss Stiles again before turning and heading up the stairs. Stiles walked back to the dining table and collected the plates, glad to have something to do with his hands. He was talking himself down from the precipice of panic.

 _’You won’t hurt him, you love him. Go slow, be gentle, don’t rush, check in. You can do this. You can rock that beautiful bunny-teethed wolf down to his bones!’,_ Stiles began to chant to himself, building his confidence back up.

After Stiles washed off the plates, he went into the pantry. Most of the time he’d been able to avoid the dark, oddly stocked closet in favor of only using what was in the cupboards of the actual kitchen. The kitchen didn’t have the emergency candles, however, or the matches. Loading up a few fat, half melted candles and a small bag of tea lights, Stiles juggled his haul back up the stairs. He could hear the water running in the bath tub and smell the clean, woodsy smell of the soap Derek liked to add. Stiles dumped the candles and matches onto the bed and then began to decorate. He removed the lamps from the bedside tables and set them in the closet and out of the way. No need to create a fire hazard. Then he artfully arranged the candles on either of the tables. He stripped the bed, pulling out a pair of soft, deep red sheets from the linen drawer. He didn’t bother putting the comforter back on since he didn’t believe they’d need it. Hurrying back downstairs, he grabbed a couple bottles of water to store in the drawer on his side of the bedside table. Last, he moved the lube to his side of the bed.

After he lit the candles, Stiles went and flicked off all the lights in the cabin. He loaded up the fire so they wouldn’t have to worry about it going out and then he went upstairs to prepare himself. As he turned the corner to look at the room, he was kind of proud at how romantic the room looked with what little effort he could put in to it. Shedding everything but his boxer briefs, Stiles padded softly over to the bathroom door and knocked quietly.

“Come on in.” Derek called. Stiles opened the door and his eyes immediately zeroed in on Derek, who was sitting on the edge of the tub in a towel, letting the water drain quietly behind him. Stiles walked up to him quickly and grabbed both his hands before stilling.

“Hey there.” Derek said, a little shyly as he maneuvered their hands so they could link their fingers.

“Hey there yourself.” Stiles replied, grinning up at the adorable man in front of him. He leaned in and kissed Derek softly, just a sweet press of lips against lips before he pulled back. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” Derek asked, cocking an eyebrow and smiling.

“Mmhm. You have to close your eyes and let me lead you into the bedroom. Are you ready?” Stiles asked, holding his breath unconsciously while he waited for Derek to answer.

“Yeah. Yes, I’m ready.” Derek replied, sliding down from the side of the tub and standing in front of Stiles. Stiles removed his hands from Derek’s and waited for Derek to close his eyes. With a last look, smile still playing on his lips, Derek closed his eyes. Stiles then gently took both of Derek’s hands in his again and walked out in front of him, pulling him forward towards the double doors. He paused to push them both open, only letting go of one of Derek’s hands to do so. When he had Derek inside the bedroom, he circled around behind him, letting Derek’s hands fall from his so he could wrap his arms around Derek’s waist. Leaning close to his ear, Stiles kissed it gently before saying, “Okay. You can open them.”

Derek opened his eyes and gasped softly. Looking over his shoulder, Stiles tried to appreciate it like Derek might. The candles were all white, casting a soft golden glow over the room. The red sheets were darker and more sensual looking against the flickering lights of the candles versus the bright incandescence of the overhead lights. It looked romantic, Stiles hoped, and inviting. Derek turned around in Stiles’ arms and kissed him fiercely, cupping his jaw in his hands as his lips and tongue encompassed Stiles’ mouth. Stiles kissed back, trying to convey that which he couldn’t put words to into his actions. His hands tightened around Derek’s waist as he pulled him closer, pressing their stomachs together.

“You’re so amazing,” Stiles breathed, pulling back from the kisses to trail his cheek over Derek’s jaw and against the side of his neck, scent marking him. He felt more than heard Derek’s shuddering breath at his actions.

“How do you want me?” Derek asked, hand pressed Stiles' face more firmly against the skin of his neck and shoulder. Stiles licked and nibbled, gave long, sucking kisses to the flesh under his mouth as Derek’s arousal became more prominent beneath his towel. No one who saw Stiles would think he wasn’t enjoying himself also.

“Let’s start in familiar territory. Why don’t you lie on your back and let me worship you for a little while?” Stiles purred, his hand slowly loosening the towel from around Derek’s waist. Derek nodded, swallowing hard as Stiles mouthed at the muscles of his throat. Derek took a step backwards, Stiles following him closely; loathe to be disconnected from his skin. They took their time, moving backwards sometimes in steps and other times in shuffles, Derek’s towel falling to the side somewhere in the middle. When Stiles felt the bump in Derek’s body from his knees hitting the back of the bed, he finally let some air come between their quickly heating bodies.

Derek sat down on the edge of the bed and scooted backwards until he had a head beneath a pillow and arms outstretched in welcome for Stiles to follow him. Stiles stayed still, letting his eyes drink in the glory of a naked, horny Derek Hale. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of his underwear, cupping himself briefly before pushing the fabric down to pool at his feet. Kneeling at the end of the bed, Stiles grabbed each of Derek’s feet. He pressed his thumb into the arch, stroked towards Derek’s heart. He let his cheeks and lips tickle Derek’s toes and then down to where his thumbs had been. He smoothed his hands up over Derek’s ankles and calves, delivering sporadic open-mouthed kisses on his way. Then to Derek’s thighs, which he had coveted since before he knew he really liked men. His sank his fingers into their meat, spreading them so he could nip and suck at the sensitive flesh on their insides. His hands stroked over the tops and outsides while his mouth climbed higher towards the blood-infused orbs resting at their junction.

“Fuck, Stiles…” Derek moaned above him, body starting to shift restlessly under Stiles’ tongue and teeth. Stiles hummed as he began giving gentle, sucking kisses to each of Derek’s balls, tongue wetting down the hair and tasting the clean skin beneath. Stiles let his hands wander upwards, over the bony protrusions of Derek’s hips and up his ribcage, coming back down and around to press against the muscles in Derek’s lower back. He raised his head, laving the hard length of Derek’s cock, working his way slowly to the top before using a hand to pull back the foreskin so he could circle the head fully with his mouth.

Derek’s breath was coming out like the bellows, huffing through his nose as his hips gave small twitches to belie how badly Derek wanted to fuck up into Stiles’ throat. That wasn’t on the game plan for tonight, however, and after lovingly tonguing the slit of Derek’s cock one last time, Stiles pulled off and reached up the bed for the second pillow.

“Lift your hips for me.” He commanded, pleased when Derek didn’t hesitate to push his hips off the bed and wait for Stiles to place a folded over pillow underneath them. Stiles lowered himself enough so that he could still make eye contact with Derek, but could also begin placing Derek’s knees over his shoulders.

“While I do this, I want you to stroke yourself for me, Derek.” Stiles said, keeping eye contact with Derek as long as he could. When it was no longer feasible, Stiles looked before him. Hidden in a nestle of dark curls was Derek’s hole. Using his hands, he kneaded and spread the flesh before him, getting winks of his goal between the whorls of hair. He kissed the skin around it, not moving down until he felt Derek starting to shift again above him. When he finally did get his tongue, flat and un-invading, against Derek’s entrance he felt the other man jump and then moan at the feeling. Stiles started slow, just licking broad stripes against the rim and then sucking kisses around the edges. Slowly, he began trying to push the point of his tongue into the tightly wound muscle. His stroked the outside of Derek’s thighs as he gently pushed against the ring, going back to sucking kisses every minute or so before trying again. Slowly, Derek’s body opened to him. He could hear soft curses above him, followed by a loud surprised gasp when Stiles finally worked the entire muscle of his tongue past the rim. Then he was tongue fucking Derek, making out with his hole while the man above him writhed.

When he felt he’d done as much as he could with his mouth, he gently removed his tongue and eased a solitary finger in its place. He didn’t go deep; he just wanted to keep the muscle open while he grabbed the lube. When he sat up, he had to pause and take in Derek. Derek was a flushed, sweating mess. He looked wrecked already and they hadn’t even really begun yet. His hand was wrapped loosely around his cock as he breathed heavily, a blush of red covering him from chest to ears. His eyes looked startled to see Stiles.

“Why did you stop? Did I--?” He started, but Stiles hushed him.

“I need lube. It’s time for phase two.” He said, with a wiggle of eyebrows. Derek smiled at him, and Stiles grabbed the tub from the nightstand and brought it over next him. Finally removing his finger, he slicked it up and poised his back at Derek’s entrance. Instead of just pushing in, he teased. He let his finger rub small circles round the ring, pushing forward and then retreating before he could fully breach Derek’s hole. Meanwhile, he bent over Derek’s chest so he could kiss and nuzzle his hair chest. He loved rubbing his face in the soft curls of Derek’s chest. He loved the give of Derek’s pectoral muscles under his teeth when he bit into the flesh. He loved the unrelenting pucker of Derek’s nipple under his tongue. He started pushing in deeper, moving his finger around the rim to help loosen it further, while he distracted Derek with his tongue and teeth over his chest. His free hand took over from Derek’s, encircling the hard rod of flesh and stroking in slow, smooth jerks of his wrist. It was enough to keep Derek hard and wanting, but not enough to get him off.

Letting go of Derek was difficult, but Stiles needed to move this along. He didn’t want to rush Derek, but he didn’t want to cum against the sheets either. Grabbing more slick, he coated two more fingers. He’d start by adding only one more. He knew that this was the biggest stretch. As soon as he was able to push a second one in alongside of the first, he paused, giving Derek time to adjust. He moved further up Derek’s body and kissed the underside of his jaw and along his throat.

“Are you doing okay?” Stiles asked, his lips pricking against the stubble of Derek’s jaw.

“Yeah… yeah. Just…this part’s familiar” Derek answered, breathless. He looked down to catch Stiles’ gaze in silent question. Stiles answered him by moving up and catching his mouth in a kiss. Slowly, he began to pull his fingers back out, pushing them in again just as slowly. When Derek gasped into his mouth softly, Stiles started to scissor his fingers as he moved, pushing at the edge of the rim so they could accommodate a third.

“God, I forgot how good this could feel.” Derek praised, his voice a mere whisper against Stiles' lips. Stiles preened as Derek’s words soaked in. He was almost ready for a third finger. The muscles were moving smoothly around Stiles' twisting, stroking fingers. As he wedged the third in along the other two, he again paused to let Derek adjust. Derek seemed to feel differently as he rolled his hips, fucking himself down onto Stiles' fingers before he’d begun to move them. This time it was Stiles who let the soft, needy “Fuuuucck” fall from his lips. He kissed Derek again deeply, and then began moving his own fingers in counterpoint to Derek’s hip rolls. Derek broke the kiss, pushing his head back as he bore down on the fingers while Stiles spread and twisted to work him open even further.

“Stiles…. Stiles….” Derek grunted, hands now roaming all over the parts of Stiles he could reach. He was beginning to sound frantic, the restless nature of his body seeking completion.

“Are you ready?” Stiles asked, hand wrapping around Derek’s leaking cock to stroke as he waited for his answer.

“Yes, YES! Please, fuck me.” Derek answered, hands raised above his head and under the pillow. Stiles withdrew his fingers and wiped them on the sheet beside him. Getting more lube, he gave his prick a copious coating before lining himself up with Derek’s flushed hole. He laid a steadying hand on Derek’s hip, shutting his eyes briefly as he pushed.

Derek was tight, but he was open enough to allow the blunt head of Stiles’ cock to push past the ring of muscle. The hiss he heard above him this time was definitely discomfort. Stiles stilled, breathing through his nose, waiting. He looked up at Derek, waiting for the go ahead. After a moment, Derek let out a breath he’d been holding and nodded. Stiles pushed again, gaining an inch or so with Derek’s help as the man let his muscles bear down in order to open. Stiles grabbed Derek’s flagging erection and began to stroke it, using it as a distractor and a gauge to how bad this was for Derek. If Stiles could at least keep him at half chub throughout this part of the process then it probably was more discomfort than actual pain. Pulling back slightly, Stiles pushed in again, working himself slowly all the way inside. It was slow and tortuous, but he knew the tides had turned for Derek when he was able to start moving back against Stiles’ shallow, measured thrusts.

“How do you feel?” Stiles asked, feeling the cock in his hand start to fill back to full hardness again.

“I feel good” was all Derek said, his eyes shut and mouth slack. Stiles gathered Derek’s legs over his elbows and leaned forward, slowly changing the angle. Derek let out a soft moan at first, but it grew to a surprised grunt as Stiles was able to simultaneously fuck him deeper and also start pushing over his prostate.

“Oh fuck, Stiles!” he called out, his hands reaching to his sides to gather sheets. Stiles watched him, watched the way he worried at his bottom lip and the way he gasped and moaned when Stiles changed the angle or speed slightly. Stiles could tell he was starting to get there, starting to rush towards the point of coming.

“Think you can come on my dick, Derek? Does it feel that good to you?” Stiles asked as he leaned forward and licked a strip of skin on Derek’s collar.

“Yeah…Fuck, Stiles. Just don’t fucking stop.” Derek cried out, throwing his head back and arching his torso off the bed. Stiles didn’t know what made him do it, but before he was aware of it, his mouth was closing around the front of Derek’s throat. His teeth dug into the skin firmly, but not seeking to break it, only to subdue the man underneath him. Derek’s body froze, his mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, even as his cock jumped and spurted between his and Stiles’ bodies. Stiles felt the gentle tug of Derek’s muscles milking him, even as he fucked his love through his orgasm, chasing his own.

When it was over, Stiles stilled above Derek and let his own body empty of thoughts beyond pleasure. Later, he slowly, slowly pulled out, rolling to one side so as not to crush Derek beneath him. His breath huffed out of him while he waited for his heart to slow. When he could think, he turned to look at Derek who was staring at him in awe.

“Stiles… That was amazing.” Derek breathed, pull his body closer to Stiles’ and kissing his shoulder.

“You’re not just saying that?” Stiles asked, smile quirking his lips.

“Never,” Derek replied, butting his head against Stiles’ shoulder gently.

“Okay then. Quick nap before clean up?” Stiles asked through a yawn.

“You’re so predictable,” Derek teased even as he snuggled up closer. Stiles heaved his body to the side so he could wrap his arms around Derek and pull him in close against him. He kissed the back of Derek’s neck and then felt himself slowly drift into sleep. He couldn’t help but feel like this was right, the way the universe should feel, the way everything should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be Sunday, March 20th by 8pm central.
> 
> Also, feel free to find me on tumblr and drop me a line. I'm [SkinSharpenedTeeth](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com).


	12. When Much is Taken, Something is Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The purification month begins. Talking ceases as Stiles and Derek are left in their own heads before the Mating Ceremony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a super short chapter. There is so much of this that I think needs to be from Stiles POV and hopefully next week's chapter will really see the fruition of this experiment. For now though... well, the first days of change are always uncomfortable, no?
> 
> Unbeta'd so throw a girl a bone (or a line). thanks y'all!

*****Derek’s POV*****  
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 

**Lydia:** _(received)_ What are your favorite color?  
**Lydia:** _(received)_ Do you and Stiles have a song yet?  
**Lydia:** _(received)_ Who do you want to stand next to you to bestow your gift? Do you know what you’re giving? Should I leave that to your representative to decide?  
**Lydia:** _(received)_ Do you think that give RV’s will fit within the field behind the cabin and still give us enough room to set up an area to do that ceremony?  
**Lydia:** _(received)_ Talked to Cora, she’s not only bringing a date, but she said she’d bring an elder from their pack to perform the blessing.  
**Lydia:** _(received)_ Do werewolves have food allergies?  
**Lydia:** _(received)_ I wish we could have a live band. Do you know any werewolves with musical accomplishment?  
**Lydia:** _(received)_ Seriously, what are you doing that is so important you can’t text me back?  
**Lydia:** _(received)_ You’re lucky I respect you and Stiles enough not to just do whatever I want without consulting you. But if you don’t respond soon I’m going to just take this entire ceremony under my wing and make all of the decisions myself and you two will HATE IT.  
**Derek:** _(sent)_ You’re doing this to convince me that we shouldn’t have chosen speech, aren’t you? Devious, Lydia, devious.  
**Derek:** _(sent)_ Let me speak with Stiles one some of these. I’ll send you an e-mail later today answering everything.  


Derek wiped his hand over his face and laid his phone back on the bedside table. Turning back onto his side, Derek slipped the sheet and covers back over his shoulder and scooted closer to Stiles. The boy mumbled sleepily at him, reaching back and patting Derek’s thigh before grabbing his arm and pulling it around to rest against his stomach and chest. Derek smiled at the action, taking it as permission to move in even closer and press the length of his body against the back of Stiles. He kissed the boy’s nape, smiling to himself and settling in to get another cat nap before he absolutely had to get up and add fuel to the fire downstairs. 

“Wha did Lydia wan?” Stiles asked, voice slurred with sleep. He pushed his body back against Derek, stretching and snuggling at the same time. 

“She had some questions about the ceremony. We can go over them later.” Derek replied, his hand stroking through the soft patch of hair on Stiles’ chest as he spoke. Stiles hummed raised Derek’s hand to his mouth, kissing the knuckles softly before replacing it on his chest. 

“Luh you.” Stiles sighed, breathing and heart rate slowing as sleep drug him back under. 

“Love you too.” Derek whispered, nuzzling the spot behind Stiles’ ear before settling in himself; contentment ebbing through him as soft and sweet as a lullaby. 

\---

When Stiles and Derek did eventually get up, the list of new questions that greeted them was daunting. Stiles stared at Derek’s phone in horror as he wrote down his answers to some of the questions. Derek sipped his coffee and watched Stiles’ increasingly bewildered expression. When he caught Derek looking, he smiled and gestured towards the phone. 

“What the fuck, Derek? _’Do werewolves have **food** allergies?’!_ I’m scared she thinks you’re more closely related to actual canines than you are.” Stiles joked, putting down the phone and reaching for his mug of coffee. 

“Well, at least she was considerate enough to ask.” Derek replied, smiling behind his coffee cup. Stiles made a face, pursing his lips and furrowing his brows, at Derek’s blasé response. Derek turned and started pulling out bread and butter for toast. He wasn’t a huge breakfast eater, but he liked having something on his stomach besides coffee. 

“Someday after I’m a wolf, I’m going to eat a giant Hershey bar right in her face! Then I’m going to eat grapes and raisins. I might even swallow a peach pit just to freak her out.” Stiles announced with his voice playfully indignant as he got up to refill his coffee cup. 

“Ick, don’t do the peach pit. Even as a werewolf that will suck having to digest.” Bread in the toaster, Derek turned and found Stiles standing directly in front of him. He was close enough that if he’d been anyone else, Derek would have tried to step back or out of the way. Stiles was definitely in Derek’s bubble. 

“Fine, no fruit stones, but the other stuff I’m definitely doing.” Stiles smiled mischievously and leaned forward to kiss Derek. The kiss was full of promise, skating the edge between affection and desire. 

“Sounds yummy.” Derek replied, breaking from the kiss as soon as Stiles’ hand started pushing at the hem of his shirt. He pulled back then to grab the popped toast from the toaster, pushing one buttered piece into Stiles’ mouth while he took the other. 

“We could be well on our way to having sex right now.” Stiles stated, chewing through his bite of toast. 

“We could be. But I want toast. And we need to answer those questions for Lydia or else. I don’t want to walk down the aisle to Boyz-2-Men.” 

A strange look crept over Stiles’ face, somewhere between amusement and confusion. Derek waited, seeing if it would pass uncommented upon or if Stiles would share his latest revelation. 

“You know, it just hit me. We’re basically getting married in a month.” Stiles said, awe in his voice as he met Derek’s eyes. His smile was bright, lighting up his face with excitement. 

“Yeah. There’s no basically to it. We’re getting married in a month, Stiles. You and me, til death do us part.” Derek added on ‘And longer’ in his mind. Stiles was still smiling, swaying closer to Derek until he could wrap his arms around him, pinning Derek’s arms against his side. 

“I’m going to marry you. This is the best shit ever.” Stiles voiced against Derek’s chest, his arms squeezing around him. 

“Hope so. I mean, you can still back out if you want, but I’m in it. I choose you, Stiles Stilinski.” 

“I choose you too, Derek Hale.” Stiles pushed up on his toes and Derek felt the warm press of his lips against Stiles. He smiles and gave Stiles a second kiss, his arms pushing forward to wrap around Stiles’ waist. Stiles pulled back and stared at him, dopey-looking enough to make Derek blush at the blatant emotion visible in them. 

“Excellent. Now let’s choose colors so Lydia doesn’t kill us.” Derek ordered, his voice trying for brusque and business-like but falling more towards embarrassed and pleased. 

“Fine. But then we’re having sex because I need an incentive to work through that mind-numbing list of questions.” Stiles joked, pulling away from Derek and walking back to the table with his coffee. Derek followed, smile still soft on his face as he sat down and began working methodically through all of Lydia’s requests, commands, and queries with his love. 

\---

It was no secret that Derek didn’t mind silence. He’d never been particularly loquacious as an adult. He spent his fair amount of time brooding in silence or waiting for other’s to grow uncomfortable enough with his non-responsiveness that they divulged more secrets than originally intended. He wasn’t afraid of losing the ability of speech. His wolf had taught him a long time ago that there were so many ways to communicate without words. 

The hours after the full moon had risen, when Stiles was laying quiet and untroubled in sleep next to him, Derek laid still and looked through the skylight at the round, distant orb and her collection of stars. He was always restless on the full moon and there was a burning under his skin that made him want to run downstairs, strip his clothes off, and shift. He wanted to feel his wolf close to the surface. The moon brought the bond of closer between them and Derek welcomed the feel of that feral side of him pushing alongside onto his surface….but his human was here. His beautiful future mate was lying next to him and it would be ill-advised for Derek to leave him alone and unprotected just for fun so he stayed still, breath calm and fluid, as he stared up at the stars. By the time he found peace, the gentle purple of the sky on the horizon heralded the new day. Turning, he tucked his face down against Stiles’ ribs and fell into dreams. 

\---

The first few days it seemed that all Stiles and Derek did was make love over and over again. They would finish, falling in a drowsy heap against one another, and then as soon as Derek woke up he found himself turning and reaching for Stiles again. When Stiles seemed too sore, Derek easily offered himself up to play. The intoxicating smell of the two of them together and the warm slide of their skin against each other was addicting. Derek felt closer and freer to Stiles than he ever had. Without words, he simply had to show Stiles what he wanted and watch Stiles react. 

The first time that Derek rolled over, still half asleep but already getting hard, and found that Stiles was not in bed it felt like a betrayal. The sheets were cool under his hand and he stilled, listening for Stiles rustling through the house. The sound of a page turning downstairs alerted Derek to what where he was. Huffing, Derek turned back onto his back and rubbed his face with his hands. He pushed himself to sit on the side of the bed, waiting for the daze of sleep to leave his limbs. He glanced back behind him to Stiles’ spot and felt the sting again of rejection. He knew logically it was just Stiles was tired of lying in bed all day, but a less logical part of him felt like he’d been discarded like the sheets and pillow. 

Shaking his head to clear the anxious thoughts that were clouding his head, Derek got up and padded downstairs. He saw that Stiles had made coffee and was sitting on the couch looking through Campbell’s codex. His head lifted and he smiled over his shoulder at Derek briefly before going back to the book in his lap, sipping his coffee and fingering the lines he found particularly interesting. Derek smiled in reflex, but frowned at the dismissal. Going over to the coffee pot, he reached into the cabinet above and pulled down a cup. Filling it with the dark roasted coffee, he turned and padded back over to where Stiles was sitting absorbed in his book. Without thinking, he leaned over and began checking out what section Stiles was reading up on. He felt Stiles shift beside him, leaning away from Derek. When Derek looked up at Stiles face, he didn’t seem to have noticed he’d moved, but his body language was screaming for Derek to back off. 

Pulling back away, Derek moved a little farther down the couch before picking up his own discarded book. The cabin had very little in the way of scholarly reading, so he was reduced to thumbing through bodice rippers for entertainment. He tried picking up where he’d left off, but he kept shooting looks over at Stiles. He wanted to touch him, just a gentle brush somewhere. So turned and leaned back against the arm of the couch, stretching his legs forward until his toes started to bury under Stiles’ thigh. Stiles squawked indignantly, pushing at Derek’s feet as he scooted further down the couch. When he settled, he shot Derek a look that clearly read ‘Stop!’ Derek bit back a whine, pulling his feet back towards him as he opened his book again and tried not to let his feelings be hurt. 

Later, after lunch had been eaten in silence and Derek was desperately trying to think of excuses in which he’d get to touch Stiles, he saw Stiles get up suddenly and go upstairs. Curiosity winning out, Derek followed him. As soon as he rounded the corner, he watched Stiles start stripping the bed and piling the sheets in a pile. He finished and picked up the pile, looking at Derek and passing him. No kiss, no touch, no smile. Derek furrowed his brow and tried to think if he’d done anything to piss Stiles off. Going to the linen drawer, he picked out new sheets on autopilot as he tried to relive the past 72 hours to see if he could figure out where he’d hurt or upset Stiles in any way. 

When Stiles returned, he looked at the bed and then at Derek like he was upset. Derek quirked his brow in question towards Stiles who was making him feel helpless to do anything right today. Sighing, Stiles covered his eyes with his hands and stood. Derek tried to read his body language, but all he could get was frustration. When Stiles lowered his eyes, he looked at Derek again and tried for a weak smile. Derek took that as permission to approach Stiles, closing the gap between them and reaching out as if to take his hand. He stopped just short, waiting for Stiles to close the distance himself. Stiles slowly moved his hand to cup Derek’s. He held it loosely as he smiled forlornly up at Derek. Derek was just so relieved to feel Stiles’ skin against his, to not be pushed away. He rubbed his thumb gently over the back of Stiles’ hand, stepping closer until only inches were between them. Stiles dropped his hand and wrapped his arms around Derek’s middle, pressing his face into his chest and breathing deeply. Derek returned the gesture, his cheek resting against the side of Stiles’ head while he waited, enjoying the feeling of Stiles in his arms. Derek wasn’t sure what he’d done, wasn’t sure if there was a way to apologize without words, but he wanted to try. 

\---

Derek wouldn’t like to admit how long it took him to figure out that music could solve part of his problems. Stiles needed noise and distraction, but Derek was okay with silence. When Derek finally thought to put on music, filling the cabin with a crooner wailing about love and affection, it was for himself and not Stiles. He’d been pushed away again and he needed something to help him speak when he couldn’t. So the iPod was turned on and the speakers turned up as he laid on the bed and let someone else use words for him. Two songs into the playlist later and Stiles crawled into bed with him, curling against his side and putting his head over his heart. He fell asleep like that, glued to Derek’s side and Derek began to form ideas on how to try and easy Stiles’ mood swings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Update is going to be March 27th, 2016. We're drawing to a close guys, only two (maaayybe three) more chapters to go! 
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr at [SkinSharpenedTeeth](http:skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com)!


	13. When Much is Taken, Something is Returned, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek continue the purification month without speaking. The reason for Stiles' perturbed behavior is explored. The month ends with new awareness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I hope you guys really like reading it! Only one chapter left... but maybe not. Still on the fence. We'll see. If not one, then two but THAT'S IT! Thank you to EVERYONE who has been around so far! We're on the home stretch, y'all!
> 
> As always, no beta but me! Feel free to point out my mistakes. I don't mind changing things and i'm not infallible.

**Stiles’ POV*****  
FEBRUARY

_Stiles hunkered down on the ground, his hands covering his arms as a frigid wind prickled his skin. The dirt under his knees was so frozen it felt like rock, unforgiving to the skin of his knees. He tried to raise his head, tried to look out around him, but the movement wouldn’t come to him so he shrank further into himself. He knew there should be heat in his middle and that he should feel warmth at his core, but all he felt was an iron-ball of dread and fear._

_“Too weak” a voice whispered near his ear. Stiles tried to turn away from it, but his body had begun to tremble and his joints locked into place. He was frozen as much by fear as by the cold._

_“I don’t know who told you that you would be a good wolf, Stiles, but they lied. You’re fucking pathetic.” The voice found its way into his ear again, this time followed by the odor of copper and filth. It made Stiles think of mass graves. His stomach rolled at the implication._

_“Why don’t you look at what you did, Stiles? Pathetic little omega, too weak to even protect a human!” The voice pushed at his senses. Seemingly without volition, Stiles head turned to see a body slumped, frozen and obviously dead, near him. It wore his father’s jacket, it shared the breadth of his father's shoulders and Stiles' brain recoiled in horror._

_Stiles swallowed the bile that rose up his throat. He turned back into his hands, whimpers escaping as he tried to block it all out. The voice didn’t stop. With a snort of derision it continues its taunt._

_“He’s not the only one you let get killed, Stiles. You might as well have killed them all yourself with all the use you were at protecting them. He was just the last to die. Why don’t you look some more and see what you've done?”_

_“No!” Stiles cried, even as his eyes scanned the field around him and picked out other bodies, all familiar even if they were faceless in his dream. Suddenly, the smell of blood was too strong in his nose. Stiles jerked his hands away from his face and looked down at them, seeing them wet, red, and shining. His fingers ended in claws which were caked in awful. His stomach cramped, his throat muscles contracting, another wave of disgust traveling like a wave through his body. “No…” he repeated again, tears starting to track through the drying blood on his cheeks._

_“You even let your alpha die. You killed Derek. Whose blood do you think is in your mouth, Stiles? How does your alpha taste to you?”_

“Nuuuhhhhhh!” Stiles cried, the word ‘no’ unable to form on his lips even unconsciously. He sat up, flailing, breathe stuttering from his lungs as he gulped around the sobs which tore from his body, hot tears tracking down his face and dropping unnoticed onto his shirt. Then strong arms were around him, pinning his flailing limbs to his torso, and he fought. He fought against them, still disoriented and upset by the dream. He fought until despair overtook him and he quieted enough to hear the quiet shushing sounds made by the lips near his ear. He recognized the arms as Derek’s and not the cruel spectre of his dream. 

Stiles pushed away one last time, flinging the arms off of him. He was still crying and now embarrassed at waking up in such a state. He stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, then into the water closet where he shut and locked the door. There he let himself slump over the toilet, elbows on his knees as he made himself calm down. He was so angry at his dream self for not standing and fighting! He was so angry that it going on two weeks that he’d been having dreams like this. They were getting worse and he was getting worn down by them. It felt like being on the edge of being void again, which scared him more than the dreams. 

A quiet knock came though the water closet door. A whine could be heard on the other side when Stiles refused to answer. He knew it was unfair to Derek. He knew he was causing distress to more than just himself. He just couldn’t look at his alpha right now. Not in the dark. Not after seeing him in his dream and feeling the warm blood from him on his hands and his teeth. Stiles felt the tears welling again as he slid onto the ground, his body resting against the door. After a moment, he felt the door jostle and heard the whisper of skin against the wood as Derek mirrored him on the other side. Stiles stayed there til morning, sleep finding him, but mercifully leaving him dreamless. 

\----

That morning when Stiles woke, he was jammed in the corner between the wall and the door jam. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he stood up slowly trying to stretch out his stiff muscles. He turned the lock and pushed opened the door slowly only to be impeded after a couple inches. He snaked his head out and saw Derek slumped over and now blinking his eyes blearily. He’d obviously slept outside the door the entire rest of the night. Something broke in Stiles as he slipped through the crack he’d made in the door. He kneeled down next to Derek and kissed him on the mouth, morning breath be damned, before petting his face, neck and chest with his hands. Derek kissed him back, on hand capturing Stiles’ and pressing it against his chest over his heart. 

When the kiss ended, Derek sat up slowly and looked at Stiles with a concerned expression on his face. Stiles knew he wanted some sign that whatever had happened with him last night was past, but Stiles wasn’t sure it was a comfort he could give. Instead, he stood and pulled Derek up with him. He bypassed the bed, not even looking at it for fear he’d be able to see the fool he’d made of himself last night in the set of the crumpled sheets, and lead Derek downstairs. He only let go of Derek’s hand when they made it to the kitchen, where he immediately began making the world’s strongest coffee in hopes it would fortify him with some of its strength. 

Derek’s hands snaked around his waist and Stiles felt the warm, dry pressure of lips being pressed to his nape. He didn’t want to be touched. He just wanted his coffee. He wanted the pressure in his head where the thoughts and feelings the dream resided to dissipate with the continued rising of the sun. He didn’t want the gentle pressure of Derek against him, trying to connect with him, trying to make him feel better, but he allowed it. He let Derek’s hands push under his shirt to smooth over the skin of his belly. He let Derek pepper the back of his neck and shoulders with kisses. He let him sooth himself with Stiles’ body while Stiles measured out tablespoons of coffee for the coffeemaker, adding cinnamon on top of the grounds to augment the bitterness of the brew he was surely concocting. As soon as he was ready to fill the reservoir, he pushed Derek’s hands out from under his shirt and moved away, sighing softly to himself at the terrible relief he felt to not being touched any longer. Derek’s neediness made him feel him excited fleeing. He couldn’t take care of anyone, least of all Derek, when he didn't feel like he could care for himself . 

As soon as the coffee was done, Stiles grabbed his cup and all but ran out onto the sun porch. The air was almost as cold as the air in his dreams, but he didn’t care. He needed physical distance between himself and Derek. The silence between them due to the ritual helped and hindered. He wished he could just explain that this is what he did when he was upset or when he felt out of control, he isolated. There was no way to tell Derek in words what was happening. The soft dulcet sounds of Damien Rice floated past the glass door and Stiles knew without a doubt that however unintentionally, he was screwing things up with the man he loved. The problem was that he had no clue how to go about changing his own mind around enough to fix them. 

\---

When Stiles was finally too cold to stand being outside any longer he moved inside. Derek was nowhere in sight and Stiles hated himself for the easing of the tightness in his chest at not having to see Derek again so soon. He didn’t have to see Derek’s beautiful face and he didn’t have to feel the guilt of seeing his kicked-puppy expression as he tracked Stiles’ movements through the main room. After setting his coffee cup down in the sink, Stiles found his heavy jacket and shoes and pulled them onto his feet. Gloves, Hat, Ear muffs stuffed in his pockets to be put on as he moved and then without a backward glance Stiles slipped out of the side door near the wood pile and headed towards the trail down to the lake. He hoped Derek wouldn’t follow him, would respect his obvious need for space. 

Stiles traipsed down the path with single-minded determination. He noted the dead undergrowth and leafless trees in his peripheral, but his eyes stayed resolutely forward as he made his way down to the lake. Occasionally a bird would chirp or a squirrel would rush overhead from one tree to the next, but otherwise the forest was a silent, winter tomb and the loudest sound in it was from Stiles who felt like he was being buried alive by each weighted spade full of anxiety and fear that his mind could produce. Stiles picked up his pace as the wind picked up, cutting through his jacket and gloves as if they were immaterial.

The shore felt even colder than the forest. The lack of trees to break the wind was making Stiles doubt his coat was warm enough. He didn’t want to go back though, not yet. He wasn't ready to retreat back into the cabin with Derek and his unspoken questions. Stiles found a spot near the trees, leaning his back against an oak and staring out at the placid, slate grey water in front of him. The sky was becoming overcast, zapping the last bit of warmth from the air, and Stiles knew he shouldn’t stay out for very long. His body was shivering almost violently and he felt out of breath. He knew he should go ahead and get moving back toward the cabin… He wanted to rest, however, just for a minute against the tree. He wanted to know if this place is where he’d find peace. Leaning his covered head against the tree behind him, Stiles was barely aware when his eyes shut and he stopped being awake. 

_Stiles was kneeling on the ground again, body still wrapped tight around himself as the cold seeped into every nook and cranny. Shivering, Stiles wished he was inside._

_“You want to be inside?” the taunting voice asked, somewhere in front of him. The breath that ruffled through his bangs was hot and acrid, the only warmth present. A low growling could be heard close by. Stiles shivered again and tried to pull his body in tighter._

_“If you get up, Stiles, you can go inside. You can see if you can save yourself since you failed saving anyone else.” There was laughter in the sneering voice and Stiles raised his head enough to look in front of him. A giant black wolf stood feet away from him, lips pulled back in a snarl as the growling increased at Stiles’ recognition of the beast. The wolf was huge, hackles raised and body quivering with the anticipation of attack. There was intelligence and cruelty in the way it snarled and gnashed its teeth, a cunning unnatural for just an animal. Stiles backed away, pushing with his feet against the cold, packed earth and scrambling with his hands for purchase._

_“You better get to running. If he gets ahold of you, Stiles, you are going to die.” The voice said, its tone warning, but the way the words fell on Stiles he knew they were said with a smile._

_Stiles turned and got his feet underneath him, legs pumping to start getting him away from the demon wolf. He saw in front of him a house, one he recognized as the Hale House before the fire. The path up to it was littered with bodies, their faces hidden but their forms familiar. The high keening sound in his throat as he ran was all the words he could spare as he passed the carcasses and headed to the door. Bursting through the old, brittle wood, Stiles turned to try to lock it only to be jolted back as the mass of the black wolf tried to push his way inside. Stiles pushed and pushed, gaining hard won inches until he was able to shut the door enough to activate the dead bolt. As he backed away, the door rocked and cracked under the ferocity of the beast behind it. Stiles knew it wouldn’t hold, knew he only had precious seconds before the dog came bursting in._

_He looked around at the rooms around him, trying to find a good spot to set up. The door cracked and moaned behind him. Finally, instinct took over and he headed upstairs. A final report from the door sounded through the house as Stiles pushed himself up the steep stairs. He chanced a glance behind him to see the wolf turning the corner on his way to get him. Looking back, he felt like he was moving at a snail’s pace, the top of the stairs getting no closer to him._

_A scream rent the air as he felt the bite and tearing of his achilles when the wolf sank his teeth in. Stiles kicked out with his feet, trying to pull himself up the stairs while trying to dislodge the wolf._

_It was impossible._

_The wolf’s jaw kept closing tighter and tighter around his ankle, the pain causing him to stop fighting to reach the top of the stairs and turn to only fight the beast. As soon as he turned to start pushing at the jaws that were crushing him, the wolf lunged. Stiles saw the teeth, felt the hot breath and the weight start to land against his outstretched arms… He was dead. He was going to die this way._

Stiles screamed, pushing away from the tree and rolling down the shore towards the water. His hand splashed in the water, stinging and sharp from the winter temperatures invading the lake and now his glove. Snatching his hand back, Stiles scooted back further onto the shore before stopping. His air fogged out in front of him in great gusts as he tried to reorient himself with reality. It was probably only noon, but the sun was so much lower than it had been when he'd arrived the clouds covering it were dark and ominous above. As soon as Stiles breathing started to calm, the shivering started in again. Pushing himself up slowly, he began to stumble back up the path towards the house. The roots that had been all but invisible to his feet on the way towards the lake seemed to trip him up at every turn on the way back to the cabin. His mind felt like someone had laid a blanket over it, muffling his senses as he walked on autopilot. The shivering was dying down the longer he walked, but he didn’t feel any warmer. Truthfully, he felt like sitting down for another nap. 

The idea was so attractive. Stiles could just take a little rest and then start up again. It made sense that the way back was harder due to the slight incline. His shivering was dying down because he wasn’t losing as much heat anymore, right? If he could just sit and get his wind back, he’d be able to get to the cabin and snuggle into the couch under one of the throws in front of the fire. The fire sounded awful good right now. 

The cabin was in sight when a root finally succeeded in bringing Stiles down. His arms shot out to catch him, but nothing could stop his descent. He landed heavily, the breath whooshing out of his lungs and his ankle screaming painfully at the twist. A door slammed in the distance as Stiles rolled onto his back and took stock of every blossoming ache in his body. Then Derek was above him, with his concerned eyes and bunny teeth showing between his slackened lips. Stiles glared up at him like it was his fault and started to push up to stand. He managed to get upright for all of a second before his ankle rolled under him and he started to tip sideways. Strong hands caught him under the arms and then Derek was there, pulling one of Stiles' arms under his shoulder while the other rested on his waist to steady him. 

Stiles wanted to push him away, but he was quickly becoming aware of how weak he was. Struggling to pull his half of the weight, he let Derek lead him into the cabin and then set him on a stool. He looked longingly at the fire, wanting to be washed in warmth, but Derek was rushing around the kitchen filling the kettle with water and setting it to boil. As soon as a tea bag was put in the cup and the water under way to boiling, Derek walked back around to where Stiles sat. His face was grave with worry and Stiles wondered what expression he wore. Did he look at tired and apathetic as he felt? 

Derek pressed his palm over Stiles’ forehead and Stiles had a difficult time not moaning at how wonderful the warmth felt against his skin. Sliding his hand down, Derek pressed both palms on either side of Stiles’ face and then down his jaw and neck. Stiles felt himself being pulled forward, his face pushed against Derek’s shoulder as Derek wormed his way in between his thighs to press the length of their bodies together. It didn’t feel sexual. It felt like survival. Derek was so warm and Stiles couldn’t help unzipping and opening his jacket so that he could push his boy closer to Derek’s. His ankle was throbbing where is bumped against Derek’s calf, but somehow Stiles felt like this sharing of heat took precedence. He let himself enjoy it, let himself feel some of the calm that he’d been denied for a week and a half now. 

The scream of the kettle broke their moment, causing Stiles to jump and jostle his ankle sharply. Derek moved the kettle off of the burner and then turned back to Stiles, looking from his face down to where he now cradled the swollen joint with one hand. Stiles looked back up at him sheepishly and slowly raised the hem of his pants leg. Even through his sock, it was obvious how swollen the area had become. Derek growled lightly at him before swooping him up bridal style to move over to the couch. Gently, Derek deposited him onto the couch cushions, raising his hurt leg gingerly to rest up over the back cushions so it would be elevated. Stiles huffed a little as soon as Derek turned to grab his tea, pushing himself up on his elbows to watch Derek work. His annoyance at being man-handled over a sprained ankle only barely eclipsed his appreciation of Derek taking care of him. On another day, Stiles knew that the other would have far surpassed annoyance. That day was not this one. 

When Derek returned, he pressed a warm cup of tea in Stiles’ hands before depositing a cold package of pees onto Stiles’ ankle. The annoyance in the movement was not lost on Stiles who tried to hide the hiss of pain he felt at having the weight press against his ankle. Derek was staring down at him with a look of consternation, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched Stiles settle. Stiles looked up and tipped his tea at him with a small, apologetic smile. Huffing, Derek turned back to the kitchen, his movements quick and jerky with the level of his annoyance. Stiles didn’t know how to help that. He didn’t know how to help any of this. So he drank his tea slowly and as his ankle numbed, he felt himself being pulled back towards sleep again, his new enemy. 

Jolting up, Stiles slapped his hand down on the coffee table to get Derek’s attention. When Derek turned around, his brow was still furrowed with annoyance, but there was a hint of curiosity there as well. Stiles pointed towards the game closet and then pointed to Derek and then himself. Derek huffed, getting the idea, and walked over into the closet. He pulled out a pack of double-twelves dominoes and walked to the other side of the couch. He pushed the coffee table closer to Stiles and dumped out the dominoes. Derek did all of this with his body language practically screaming that he had not forgiven Stiles stupidity or shitty attitude, but like the man that he was, he would always take care of his mate… even if that mate was still “potential” instead of locked. 

\---

_The wolf was back in his dreams, chasing him over the frozen field. The house loomed in front of him and Stiles knew that was his only salvation even if it had previously only been his demise. Running through the first door, Stiles didn’t stop to look at the bottom floor this time. He kept running, his body pumping with fear and adrenaline as his leg pushed him up the main stairs. He could hear the beast behind him._

_Turning on a dime at the landing, Stiles caught a glimpse of the slathering, rabid wolf whose eyes burned like fire. It was close, too close for comfort. He pushed through an adjacent room and closed the door quickly behind him, knowing it wouldn’t hold the beast for long. He kept running, checking all the other doors in the room until he found one with more stairs. The beast burst through the door the moment his foot his the first step upwards. Scrabbling, he pulled the door to the stairs shut behind him while he monkey crawled up the rest of the steps._

_The stairs led to the attic, a dead-end for sure. Stiles could hear the splintering wood and scraping of nails through the paint of the door as the wolf fought its way through the barrier. Desperately, he pushed aside stacked boxed and furniture to try and find a suitable hiding place._

_Then a glint of light caught his attention. He turned his head and saw a window at the opposite end of the attic. Climbing over boxes and obstacles, Stiles hurried towards the window and looked out. There was a small ledge and some trees near enough he might be able to jump and catch hold. The door gave a final groan of anguish before it slammed open, announcing that the wolf had gained entrance to the room. Stiles pushed at the window for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of the wolf shouldering aside boxes and growling menacingly behind him fueling his fervor to open the window. As soon as he shouldered it open enough to slip through, he did. He pulled his body through the small opening, finger’s holding tight to the seal as his toes barely grasped the ledge and he looked out behind him. The wolf was only feet from the window and Stiles knew it was now or never for his jump. There was a tree branch a couple feet below him that he would aim for. His legs bunched and he felt his muscles push out from the side of the house._

_The wolf’s jaws snapped, the teeth catching his shirt. With inhuman strength, the wolf pulled Stiles back through the window. Stiles terror caused his to lash out, trying to push off his shirt and the wolf’s muzzle at the same time. He was going to die, he was going to die, hewasgoingtodie!_

_“Stiles…”_

_Stiles found harder, his hands pushing at the immovable chest of the wolf snarling above him. His eyes shut against the pressure of the wolf shaking its head, jarring Stiles body this way and that._

_“Wake up, Stiles.” The voice in his head commanded._

Stiles opened his eyes and his fighting continued. A solid mass was above him, holding him down. He flailed out, his hand contacting fur and muscle. He looked up and was met with the fire red eyes of the wolf from his dreams. Screaming, panic overtook his senses and he fought harder and harder to get away. 

Then the wolf stepped off of Stiles’ chest and backed off to the corner of the room where it laid on its belly. The fire bled out of its eyes, leaving too glinting black specks in the moonlight. Stiles’ breath was labored as he stared at the wolf, his body still pumped full of adrenaline. He chanced a look around. He was upstairs in the cabin, Derek’s cabin. He was on the wrong side of the bedroom, his hand pressing against the railing of the half wall of the over-look. The wolf whined in the corner, the noises high and piteous as it continued to stare at Stiles. Its nose was to the ground and the sound from its throat tore at Stiles’ heart. Regaining his breath, Stiles sat up. It’d been a week since he’d busted his ankle and today had been the first day he’d really gotten to walk around on it without discomfort. 

The wolf crawled closer on its belly, crying sounds still emanating from its throat. Stiles sighed and let his vigilance drop. It was a dream. It was a dream. He pressed the heels of his hand to his eyes for a moment, trying to push the images out of his brain, and then he let his hands drop into his lap. He looked at the wolf again, looked at _Derek_ , and held out his arms as a clear gesture that he was allowed to approach. The wolf stood up and padded over, leaning his head into Stiles’ chest as he turned and sat heavily, his body pressed against Stiles’. Stiles drew his arms and legs round the wolf’s body, pressing them close together while the wolf’s crying quieted down. The wolf rubbed its head all over Stiles’ shoulder and chest, head-butting the side of his neck, low howls hurting Stiles’ ears with their volume and breaking his heart with their sadness. Stiles tightened his grasp, fingers carding through the fur as he rubbed his cheek soothingly behind the wolf’s head. 

\---

Daylight was in full effect by the time Stiles woke up. He was alone on the floor by the bed. When he stretched up he could see through the slats in the railing that Derek was downstairs sleeping on the couch. Hurt choked him and he looked away quickly. Pulling himself up, his hand caught on something in the paint. When he looked down, he saw claw marks on the railing… his dream came back to him and suddenly he was very aware that he’d almost seriously hurt himself last night while he was dreaming. Derek was there. Derek saved him and he’d treated Derek like the enemy. 

\---

The last week of the moon was upon them. Stiles might as well have been sleeping alone since the incident. Derek was never in bed when he laid down or got up. When he woke in the night however, Derek was there in his wolf form, curled as tightly as possible, on the far corner of the bed watching him. During the days, Derek played music with no words. He walked around like a zombie, wary of Stiles. If Stiles wanted to touch him he had to seek him out and do so with intent. It made Stiles realize how often Derek touched him without it and how much he’d come to rely on it to jolt him out of his own thoughts. Stiles yearned toward the full moon, yearned to be able to apologize and explain with words to Derek about how none of this was his fault, how Stiles was the one who had fucked-up, how he still wanted and needed him. 

The last day of the month, Stiles pulled Derek by the hand to sleep in bed with him. The nightmares were still there, but they weren’t as bad. Derek lay on his side of the bed and stared at the empty sky through the skylight. Stiles sighed and lay down next to him, reaching out to hook a pinky around Derek’s beneath the cover. Derek allowed it for a whole half a minute before gently pulling his hand away. Sighing again, Stiles turned onto his side away from Derek to sleep. In the morning, he would make things right. In the morning, he would explain. 

_The house, always the house. Stiles ran into it feeling like he should just let the wolf have him. He burst through the door for the hundredth time, he ran up the stairs without a thought, he searched for a room to hide in… but the wolf was getting smarter, too. He knew where Stiles liked to hide and he cut off the path to it. Stiles tried to slip around him only to feel the click of teeth much too close to his hand for comfort. So he turned and fled along the corridor. He darted through rooms and past windows which would not open._

_He ended up in a room with two doors, a walk-through corridor deep in the heart of the house. He could grasp each door with a different hand. He didn’t know how the wolf was doing it, but it had him cornered. When he tried to move forward, the door shook with the force of paws and muscle. When he tried to go back, it was already there trying to burst inside._

_Shaking, Stiles slid to the floor in the middle and held his head in his hands. He cried. He wasn’t meant to win this game and now he had to figure out how to die._

_“Choose a door, Stiles” the voice called to him, the one which had been eerily absent the last few times he’d dreamed._

_“THERE IS NO CHOICE!” Stiles screamed into the dream, his vocal cords feeling like they were tearing into each other. He stood up and began to pace, tugging at his hair and scratching down his scalp._

_“There is always a choice…but the wolf won’t wait for long. He needs to feed. He’s so very hungry for you.” The voice sneered in his dream. Stiles ignored it and kept pacing. The doors rattled around him, never at the same time. If there was only one wolf then there would ever be only one entrance and one exit. A plan formed in Stiles’ mind, it was simple and it most likely wouldn’t work, but it was worth a shot._

_Grabbing each handle, Stiles tried to brace himself to flee one direction of the other. The rattling at one end started almost as soon as the other stopped, but Stiles knew he needed to open both doors exactly in the middle. He waited, getting the rhythm down in his head. When he finally garnered his courage, both hands twisted and pulled inward, opening the doors at the same time._

_Two wolves lunged towards him from either end. The moment of surprise dampened quickly to defeat as Stiles’ knees gave out and he sank into the corridor floor. The wolves didn’t attack him, however. After a moment of realizing he was not in blinding agony, Stiles opened his eyes and looked up._

_One wolf was the giant black wolf that had been chasing him. It was crouched on its belly, neck turned and offered up to the other wolf above it. The new wolf was snarling, its teeth bared and snapping only an inch from the black wolf’s offered neck. It was giant also, although slimmer than the black. Its fur was white with subtle hints of ginger and grey. The ginger crept through around its muzzle, face, and ears whereas the grey peaked through the thick fur of its torso and legs. The white wolf ignored Stiles, focusing on keeping the black one at bay._

_Stiles pushed to his knees and approached the wolves slowly. The white flicked its ear back at him, but that was all the acknowledgement it gave. Stiles raised a hand to touch the white’s shoulder, marveling at its beauty and power. As soon as his hand sank into the thick fur, electricity shot though his body. The jolt left him tingling and energized like he hadn’t felt in weeks. The white wolf raised its head from where it had been subduing the back to look at him finally. He saw that the white wolf had his eyes down to the last fleck of gold amongst amber. Stiles realized that this wolf was him, it was his. When he turned, this would be what he would look like if he could attain full shift._

_Stiles eyes went back to the black wolf who whimpered up at the white. He reached out his free hand that was not on the white wolf toward the black, who eyed it warily. Feeling both terrified and galvanized to foolhardy bravery, Stiles touched the offered neck of the black._

_He understood now. He understood it all. The black wolf licked his wrist while the white rumbled its approval. The fear leaked out of him._

_“You chose wisely.” The disembodied voice congratulated._

Stiles opened his eyes with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face. Rolling, he looked for Derek and found him curled away from him. There was a foot of bed between them. Reaching over, Stiles pulled Derek’s shoulder towards him and forced the sleeping man onto his back. 

“Whaa?” Derek started, groggily looking around for a threat. Stiles climbed over his supine body to straddle his hips. He bent down and captured Derek’s mouth in his, not waiting for a response before threading his fingers through the man’s hair and licking at the seam of his mouth. 

“Derek, I saw my wolf.” Stiles whispered huskily against Derek’s mouth. Derek’s body jumped underneath his slightly as he pulled his head back from Stiles. 

“You can talk?” Derek questioned, but then moved his face slightly to the side to look up at the night sky. The moon was full and heavy above them, slipping away as their part of the earth moved determinedly towards dawn. “The month… it’s over.” 

“It’s over. Oh, Derek, it’s fucking OVER!” Stiles crowed, his smile splitting his face. He leaned forward and captured Derek’s mouth again with his. 

“I’m so sorry Derek. I know I was a fucking jerk. I was having nightmares all the fucking time and I couldn’t tell you about them and I felt so out of control and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Stiles mouth was moving at top speed and he wasn’t even sure if he was intelligible with the way he kept interrupting himself to kiss Derek’s lips or face. 

“Stiles…” Derek sighed against Stiles’ mouth. His hands were caressing the sides of Stiles’ ribs, up over his back, and his mouth had begun to reply to Stiles’ fervent attention. Finally, Stiles buried his face into Derek’s neck just shook with joy. He could speak! He could tell his lover all about it. He could tell him about the dreams and about how he dealt with trauma and all about his wolf…tomorrow. Or later that day. Now, though, all Stiles wanted was to breath in the scent of Derek and feel the warm weight of him against his chest. 

Pulling and positioning, Stiles finally got his last wish. He and Derek continued to kiss and whisper apologies and forgiveness throughout the rest of the night. Derek lay half on top of Stiles, pressing Stiles’ gently into the mattress until they fell asleep with the sound of early spring birds chirping outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEE!!!!!! Stiles saw his WOLF!!! This chapter was so much fun to write! Hope you guys enjoyed it! 
> 
> As always, check me out at [ tumblr](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com) for the latest updates on update or any new fics. 
> 
> Next update (possibly the last update) will be on April 3rd, 2016 by 8 pm central time.


	14. Knowledge and Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reality of the situation hits Derek hard as pack and family start to show up for the mating ceremony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who waited for this chapter for TWO WEEKS! I had so many issues getting time to write and having my equipment go wonky. You guys who sent me kind words telling me it was okay are literally the best thing in the entire world and if I could give you kudos just for being awesome I would. THank you, thank you, THANK YOU!
> 
> No beta'd because that's not a thing I apparently do.... ;) but lemme know if you see anything.

*****Derek’s POV*****  
FEBRUARY/MARCH

After the relief of Stiles’ returning to himself, Derek felt like there were too many and too few words said about the situation. Stiles had spent the rest of that morning after the end of the full moon murmuring apologies against Derek’s skin as his hands roamed and caressed everywhere. Derek had been overwhelmed by the return of such heated touch and had selfishly languished in it, enjoying its weight and pull against his limbs. A niggling voice in the back of his head, however, kept reminding him of how much the past few weeks had hurt; how he could tell that Stiles hadn’t wanted his touch or comfort. The voice in the back of his mind that he was steadfastly refusing to listen to as Stiles’ mouth slid over his skin in wet, swollen, sucking kisses kept wondering if this was a sign. If they really needed to talk more about what had happened. Derek had saved his life and at the time it felt like Stiles didn’t even appreciate the gesture… 

“Derek, why are you thinking? I’m trying to dispel all thought right now…” Stiles asked, smirking up at him from next to his very hard, very flushed cock. His mouth was right next to the root, blowing puffs of air that tickled the hair and teased Derek’s skin. He was every dream Derek had ever had about him. His mouth looked raw and wet, his expression mischievous, and even as he spoke to Derek he slowly jacked him using only two fingers. It felt like just enough and never enough, threatening to do exactly what Stiles’ wanted and dispel all of Derek’s thoughts…. But Derek couldn’t quite give in. Derek opened his mouth to speak just as Stiles continued. 

“When I do this, does that help?” Stiles asked before licking a wide stripe up Derek’s length. He let his tongue dip into Derek’s slit causing electricity to shoot up Derek’s skin before Stiles’ mouth enveloped the head in wet heat. Derek felt his body shifting, pressing upward in between Stiles’ lips without conscious thought. A groan escaped him too without much further consideration at the tight suction and release that Stiles’ was employing as he continued to slowly tug and push at the rest of Derek’s length. They could talk about it later. It could wait a little while longer…

\---

The next day a storm rolled through the valley in the form of half of the pack. Lydia, with Allison, Isaac, and Erica in tow, rumbled up the driveway in jostling campers like a band of well-to-do gypsies. Derek watched their slow and bumpy approach from the front porch, jeans the only thing to shield him from the slowly warming spring day. Lydia parked briefly near the house before jumping out and approaching him. It was the first time he could ever think of seeing her in jeans and it boggled his mind a little that she even owned any. 

“What’s the best route to behind the house? Is it even clear enough for us to see the ground yet?” Lydia demanded while the other two RV’s rumbled behind hers waiting for instruction. 

“UH…. I didn’t know we needed to clear it? We’ll probably need to go get a lawnmower or weed whacker or something. It’s all tall grass right now.” Derek responded, a little embarrassed he hadn’t thought of the need to clear the area where the ceremony would be held. 

“UGH, useless! Fine. We’ll park out here and then you’ll let Isaac borrow your car to go into that quaint little town we saw to get a lawnmower. In the meantime, you and lover boy can go looking for rocks or branches or anything that might kill the lawnmower and move them to the outskirts of the field. We need enough space cleared for six campers total, I believe.” Without another word and with a flip of her strawberry blonde hair, she walked away and began to bark instructions at Allison and Isaac. Derek was still standing there a little awestruck when Stiles managed to finally make his way outside, tooth brush still hanging out of the side of his mouth and hair still wrecked, to watch all the chaos. 

“What did very obvious thing did we not do?” Stiles asked, pulling the toothbrush from his cheek. 

“We didn’t think to clear the grass in the clearing for the campers and ceremony.” Derek answered, trying to ignore his urge to wipe the toothpaste out of the corner of Stiles’ mouth with his thumb. 

“Yep, that’s pretty fucking obvious. We’re dumb, but I’ll make her something fancy for lunch and we’ll get forgiven. Who’s charged with going to get the lawnmower?” 

“Isaac, I think?” 

“Good choice. I would normally go with Allison but Isaac had all that time in the graveyard with his dad. I’m sure he knows how to clear some space. What are we doing in the meantime?” 

“Clearing rocks and branches and shit out of the field.” 

“Okie dokie. Go get some coffee, I’ll handle the wailing woman.” Stiles leaned over and kissed Derek’s cheek as he dismissed him, handing him his toothbrush before walking out into the gravel driveway barefoot to herd the campers and Lydia while Derek just watched. He turned and walked back into the house, setting Stiles’ toothbrush down by the sink in the kitchen as he stared unseeing at the counter. He was getting mated in a few days. Less than a full week. He was going to be mated. To Stiles Stilinski. He was going to…He was going to… 

He was going to throw up. 

Racing upstairs, Derek barely made it inside of the water closet before he started vomiting. It was mostly bile, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Stiles was it, Derek knew this down to the marrow in his bones, but that didn’t change the fact that their relationship wasn’t even a year old and he was going to mate… make a lifelong commitment to another person… in a few days’ time. Who would take whose last name? Where would they live? Was this last month of cold shouldering indicative of more than just exhaustion, frustration, and self-isolation? Were they really ready for such a big step? Did Stiles really want him? If Stiles turned, would his wolf be recognized by Derek’s? 

“You know statistically, whether we make a formal commitment tomorrow or in five years, we still only have a 50/50 chance of being happy and together in the long run…” Stiles’ voice floated through the door. Derek hadn’t heard him approach. He’d been so lost in his head that he had successfully blocked out the one sound he’d listened to every single day for five months, Stiles’ heartbeat. 

“Is that meant to comfort me?” Derek asked, his voice croaking. 

“Open the door. I shut the doubles. Let’s talk.” Derek could hear Stiles moving away from the door to give Derek room to push it out. The knots in Derek’s stomach remained, but he forced himself to stand up and open the door anyway. Stiles was waiting for him on the other side, sitting on the floor with his back against the tub. Derek sat down next to him, his shoulder hovering close enough to leach heat from Stiles’ shoulder. 

“So what about that statistic wasn’t comforting?” Stiles asked, capturing Derek’s hand between his own and holding it securely against his thigh. 

“I feel like you just said there’s a 50% chance we’re going to be miserable no matter what.” 

“That’s a pretty pessimistic view of it. I think of it as, if it does go to shit, it’s not because we rushed into things… it’s because there was always a chance. And there is. Someday objectively we might come up against something that we cannot surmount, that we cannot forgive each other over… it might all go to shit, but honestly, I think we’ll be okay. We’ll have fights and sometimes they may last longer than a week or a month, but I think we have a pretty solid foundation between us. We have a strong support system, we have years of friendship between us, and we have the most incredible fucking sex ever.” 

“But last month…” Derek trailed off as Stiles sighed, looking down at their hands between them. 

“Yeah, last month.” 

“You isolated so much, Stiles. You treated me like I didn’t matter, like what was happening to you wasn’t also hurting me. I saved your life and I felt like you didn’t even care…”

“I don’t know how to say I’m sorry enough and I don’t know how to guarantee that it won’t happen again. You mattered. I knew I was hurting you and I hated myself for it, but I just couldn’t get out of my own head. That happens sometimes. It’s something I need to work on with myself. I haven’t been very good at being vulnerable for a very long time now and sometimes this life, with all of these life-threatening episodes of immediate importance… I’ve just gotten very good at internalizing and taking care of myself. It’s been awhile since I’ve invited anyone in to share my struggles. So, yeah… I am sorry about last month. I am sorry I pushed you away and I’m sorry I wasn’t more grateful at the time for your tremendous act of saving my life…but I can’t change how I acted then. It’s something hopefully that will never come up again, but next time hopefully we can just talk about it. If you want we can go to a corporate workshop somewhere and practice trust falls for an hour?” 

Derek grinned at the idea. 

“Why do you want to mate with me, Stiles?” Derek asked, a bit scared of the answer. 

“Honestly, I can’t imagine mating with anyone else. I can’t imagine every knowing someone the way I know you or wanting someone the way I want you. You’re kind, loving, caring, a good leader, a great provider (don’t think I forgot about that deer), and you feel like home to me. That’s kind of the big one. When you’re around, I feel like I’m home. Your smell just unlocks everything in me and opens all my doors and I want to be with you forever.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. You smell like home too.” 

\----

Cora arrived the next day as Stiles and Derek were trying on their wedding suits upstairs. Allison, Isaac and Lydia sat on the edge of the bed as one, then the other, went into the bathroom and tried on the suit before coming out and showing it off for them. Lydia, it seemed, had completely disregarded their color choices and gone for something different. Derek would be mad except that if Stiles looked half as good as he did in his suit, then they were both maybe better off for her disregarding their wishes. He walked through the double doors and immediately, all three mouths dropped. 

“Woooooo-ow, Derek! You look like a model!” Allison breathed, eyes raking down the three piece he was in. Lydia hadn’t gone with the traditional black or white. He wore light grey, European cut slacks with a white dress shirt and matching grey vest. She’d gone with a dark blue, but not navy, colored blazer and accented it with a blue and white polka-dotted thin skinny tie and pocket handkerchief. He’d snorted at the polka dots when he’d seen them, but he couldn’t deny that put together it added just the right touch of whimsy to bring Stiles’ eccentricity to the outfit. 

“Of course he does. He already looked like a model. Now he just looks like a well-dressed model.” Lydia said primly, eyeing Derek with barely concealed approval. He looked down at himself and smiled. 

“I don’t know about model, but it does look good. Thank you Lydia, you did really well.” Derek responded, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks while the others took in their fill. His ears perked at the sound of a car on the driveway. Isaac had turned his head slightly too to listen. 

“I bet that’s Cora and the Brazilians. Go change and I’ll meet them.” Isaac offered, looking back towards Derek. Derek nodded and then turned to go back into the bathroom to change. It’d been a couple years since he’d been able to see Cora. He was excited to have his sister around, but always wary to meet wolves not in his own pack. His trepidation at insulting them accidentally by not being down to welcome them himself hastened his movements as he quickly hung his suit back up and pulled his jeans and t-shirt over his head. 

By the time he was out of the bathroom he could hear Cora’s musical laughter floating up from downstairs. She probably couldn’t come in without his or Stiles invitation and the last time he’d seen Stiles was when he’d announced he’d go on a walk so as not to “accidentally” see Derek in his wedding attire even though it probably just looked exactly like his own. Derek wished he hadn’t wandered off as he stepped past the front door and stared at two strangers standing on either side of his sister. 

“DEREK!” Cora yelled, her mouth wide and smiling as she threw her hands in the air and walked towards him for a hug. He smiled back and opened his arms, wrapping them around her as soon as she was close enough to do so. The two men that were with her regarded him over her shoulder as he did them. One was older, but still svelte and suave looking. He had greying black hair that was long and he looked strong. Derek surmised this would be the one officiating the ceremony. The other was younger, probably the same age as himself, with light brown curls and dark tan skin. His eyes were grey and piercing, but the smile he wore seemed more friendly than mocking. 

“You need to meet my friends!” Cora finally said through a laugh as she pushed her way from Derek’s arms. She seemed to much happier than he’d known her to be. She was like him in that she tended towards being serious and sullen, quietly judging the social landscape before inserting herself into the crowd. She walked over and put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. 

“This is Benicio Assis. He’s one of the pack elders down in Brazil. He’s been nice enough to come with me to do the blessing for you and Stiles. He speaks perfect English too, so don’t let him fool you.” Cora warned, smirking over at Benicio as he looked like he’d been betrayed. Derek smiled and offered his hand to the older man. 

“Thank you for coming. We don’t really have any pack elders right now. I don’t remember much about the ceremony itself, but I’d be happy for any information or advice you could give me about it.” Derek offered diplomatically as Benicio grasped his hand firmly. It wasn’t an overt show or strength, but it was unyielding and let Derek know to take this man seriously in all dealings. As soon as their hands fell away from each other, Cora moved the younger man forward, her arm looped around his. 

“And this, Der, is Renan Vidal…my boyfriend. Well, my potential mate I suppose. He and I are planning on going through this same ritual this coming October down in Brazil.” She supplied. The way she looked at the man was as if he hung the moon and Derek knew without a doubt he had to threaten his life and body before they left so that he would never, ever make her loose the smile on her face. 

“Hello Renan, nice to meet you. I’m Derek.” Derek supplied, probably unnecessarily, as he shook Vidal’s hand. The man smiled and nodded but didn’t verbally respond. Derek watched his body language and tell he was shy. It endeared him to Derek a little since Derek knew his own battles sometimes with putting himself out there. 

“Hey! Visitors! CORA!” Stiles called in a happy voice from the side of the house. Everyone turned and looked at him as he stomped through the high grass between the trail and the yard. Cora moved towards him and enveloped him in a hug not dissimilar to the one she’d given Derek. It was full of fond familiarity and Derek wondered what had happened between them to cause such a bond even though he knew for a fact they almost never communicated. 

“What did I miss?” Stiles asked, looking between Derek and the newcomers as soon as Cora had released her hold on him. 

“I was just being introduced. This is Benicio Assis who will be assisting us with the ceremony and this is Renan Vidal, Cora’s boyfriend.” 

Stiles walked up and started shaking hands and handing out pleasantries. He was a little sweaty from his trek on the trail, but to Derek it just made him want to bury his nose against his neck and inhale deep wafts of him. Stiles was the one to introduce Lydia and Allison as Isaac had been previously introduced before Derek had come downstairs. One of Derek’s favorite things about Stiles was his ability to walk into any situation and instantly make friends. Scott was better at it, but Stiles came across more as an accomplice whereas Scott was always A Genuinely Good Guy. Derek must’ve been lost in his own thoughts as everyone mingled and Cora re-established her bonds with everyone, because when Benicio’s deep voice intoned his name next to him, he almost started. 

“Derek, we need to talk about the ceremony.” Benicio said quietly next to him. Derek turned and looked into the almost black eyes of the older man. He nodded and began to walk towards the trail Stiles had just walked from. They made it about halfway across the yard before the heavy footsteps of Stiles jogging up behind them made them pause. They both turned to look at him. Stiles stopped short, looking between the two of them and then at Derek, questioningly. Derek turned to look at Benicio, who regarded Stiles for a moment before nodding. Derek looked back and caught Stiles eye again, nodding and then tilting his head towards the trail. Stiles approached them at a more measured pace before they all started off again towards the lake. 

Benicio didn’t speak up until they were about halfway down the trail and well out of earshot from the other wolves and humans. 

“I’m sorry to be so mysterious. This isn’t really any big secret, the ceremony, but I like to get a feel for the people I’ll be blessing before I go ahead and just repeat the words. I was going to approach you a little later, Stiles, but it is just as well for us all to speak about this together.” 

“Oh, so this is like a vetting? Are you just going to feel us out? Make sure we’re in love or something?” Stiles asked a bit nervously as they continued walking. Benicio laughed, his voice booming through the valley. 

“If only love were quite as easily discerned. Lust looks like love to the young, complacency looks like love to the old. A couple can fight like cats or exist in Buddhist tranquility and be as in love or not as any other couple. No, love (though important) is not what I want to feel out. I’m much more concerned with compatibility and respect. I understand you two went through the purification ritual?” the older man asked, looking over his shoulder at Derek and Stiles who were walking next to him. 

“Yes” Derek answered for them both. 

“Good, good. What did you learn?” Stiles and Derek shifted uncomfortably, side eyeing each other as to who should speak. They stayed silent just a beat too long, as Benicio stopped walking in front of them and turned. 

“Well?” he prompted. Derek met Stiles eyes again and then Stiles began to speak. 

“We learned… we learned that we still have some work to do. I’m not very good at letting others help me through my problems. I have a tendency to push people away, even those close to me. It’s something I have to work on.” 

“Do you not trust Derek?” Benicio asked curiously. 

“With my life. I just… it’s habit, I guess. I’ve been taking care of myself and my father for a long time. I take care of those in my pack. I just… I don’t let people take care of me very easily. And when they try, I tend to push them away. I would blame it on my being too independent, but really I just think I learned that giving into weakness only makes you feel more weak.” Stiles finished with a shrug. Benicio looked at him for a long moment before turning to Derek, nodding almost to himself, and then beginning to walk again down the path. Derek and Stiles shared a confused look before following. 

“What did you learn, Derek?” 

“Well, I learned about Stiles and how to deal with…” Derek started, before Benicio turned and looked at him, cutting him off. 

“What did you learn about _yourself_ , Derek?” He clarified. Derek stopped in his tracks. He was flummoxed. He wasn’t expecting that. The month of silence had been so easy for him outside of what was happening with Stiles that he hadn’t thought to do any self-exploration. Benicio stopped further up the path, as did Stiles. Both turned and looked at him, waiting for his answer. He looked between them, feeling panic start to rise since he didn’t have an answer. 

“Just think about it, Derek. You don’t have to have an answer right now, but I’m sure if you think about it something will come to you.” Benicio advised before continuing his walk. They were almost at the lake and they didn’t speak again until they were sitting on the shore looking out at the placid water. 

“Why are you two mating? Why not just keep dating for a while and then go through this later? From what Cora has told me, you weren’t dating or even really flirting prior to being thrown into the ritual together.” 

“I love him. I love him and I think we can make this work. We have common goals, we get along, we’ve worked through a crisis before and… you know… he’s kind of a catch.” Stiles finished with a smirk, winking at Derek over his shoulder. Derek could feel the blood rushing up his neck and cheeks as Benicio chuckled. 

“Uh…” Derek started, coughing a little to clear his throat. “I, uhm…I love Stiles. I think he’s amazing. I’ve always thought he was amazing, even when I first met him and didn’t like him, I thought he was amazing. But he’s right, we also have common goals. We want to protect and stabilize the pack, grow it into a more rooted pack structure with the help of my co-alpha, Scott… We want similar things. And he takes care of me, he’s not afraid to get me out of my shell. Plus… plus my wolf likes him. He’s put a temporary claiming mark on him already.” 

Benicio chuckled again. 

“Yeah, I smelled it when I first met him. Have you offered him The Bite?” 

“Yeah. He has. I accepted, but we’ve decided to wait until the time feels right. There’s too much going on right now and too much pressure to perform for me to also be dealing with being a new werewolf. So… we’re just going to see. I mean, if he wanted to bite me this afternoon, I would let him, but we just didn’t see the point of doing it this very moment.” Stiles finished with another shrug, but his hand had reached out and clasped with Derek’s as he spoke. 

“Hm. Okay.” Was all Benicio really said to the confession. 

“I mean, is that okay? Is it going to affect the bond?” Stiles asked, his voice turning slightly peevish like it always did when he thought someone was withholding information from him. 

“No, I think it will be fine. It’s just unusual. Most people who accept The Bite want to get it done as quickly as possible. It’s just odd that you two have decided to wait.” Benicio replied thoughtfully. Derek kept his silence, watching the exchange. He knew Benicio was correct about most people wanting the transformation and the power that came with it as soon as possible, but he didn’t know Stiles. Derek knew that power was never something Stiles actively sought out after the Nogitsune possession. He liked his supporting role in the pack and never actively set out to undermine or overstep his authority. It’s one of the reason, at least unconsciously, that Derek had thought this could all work out. Stiles may not have a submissive personality, but he would submit if the occasion called for it. He was pack. He was a boy who became a man surrounded by wolves, entangling himself daily in their struggles and successes, and he was probably more wolf by association than anyone realized. Derek appreciated that aspect, the parts of Stiles which had been shaped by loyalty, courage, and blood. 

“Stiles will tell me when he’s ready. It’s his choice and I’ll respect his humanity until he decides he’s ready to become wolf.” Derek spoke up. Benicio looked at him through narrowed eyes, weighing his words. 

“It seems you will at that.” He said eventually, turning back towards the lake. “Let me tell you about the vows we make to one another when we make a mating bond.” 

Derek felt himself settle at the words and saw Stiles relax next to him as well. It seemed they’d passed whatever test Benicio had been putting them through. They would be mated. They sat and listened to him tell about the bonds and offerings of the ceremony. Derek’s hand held Stiles’ tighter as they listened, contentment suffusing him like the warmth from the sun. 

\---

The next day found the rest of the pack, Melissa, and the Sheriff coming to the cabin in their own RV’s. With their appearance, Lydia began decorating in full force. No one was exempt from her barked orders and military precision. Derek’s Camaro was used by everyone for tiny trips to and from the nearest town to get everything from vodka and fruit to hay bales and tea lights. Stiles and Derek were practically barricaded to the front yard or house so that they didn’t see what Lydia was planning. Derek and Stiles stayed mainly up in the bedroom, trying to drown out all the noise with music and periodic visits from their friends when they needed breaks or to hide from Lydia for a while. 

At one point, Scott was the only one left in the room. Everyone else was outside or downstairs, the ebb and flow of their voices humming around the interior of the cabin. Stiles was laying with his head on Derek’s stomach while Derek combed his fingers through his hair. It was boring when you weren’t aloud to do anything to help except stay out of the back yard. “So uh, I’ve been meaning to speak to you guys…” Scott started off, sitting on one of the chairs that had been brought upstairs through one of the many visits. Derek regarded him from where he leaned against the headboard, noting that Stiles only hummed to signal that he was listening. “Lydia told me that Stiles accepted The Bite.” Scott started, voice neutral but by the way his posture had stiffened, Derek could tell that he was feeling more than what his voice was telling. Stiles opened his eyes and sat up, looking Scott over and assessing him. 

“Yeah, man. Derek offered and I accepted. We weren’t planning on doing it anytime soon though. We figured we’d get through the wedding and stuff, ya know? Let things settle down before—“ Stiles was cut off abruptly when Scott stood up from his chair so fast it was knocked over behind him. 

“WHY DIDN’T YOU GUYS TELL ME?!” Scott demanded, his eyes flashing red. Derek felt his eyes flash in response to the challenge. 

“Uh…. “ Stiles started, eloquently, looking over his shoulder at Derek for a little help. 

“Because it’s Stiles’ choice. And I’ll be the one giving him The Bite.” Derek gritted out, trying not to get too defensive. He knew that Scott’s feelings were hurt and he wished he had a better response. Honestly, it had never occurred to him to tell anyone that Stiles had accepted his offer to become a werewolf. Stiles was his mate and it would be an extension of their relationship for him to turn, not a power play or an addition to pack. 

“I’m your best friend, Stiles! Why didn’t _you_ at least tell me? Shoot me a text or something, I mean this is only a Big. Fucking. Deal! Why would you agree to something like this? Why give up your humanity?” Scott was pacing, working himself up. Derek watched him grow more agitated the longer Stiles sat in stunned silence. 

“Well, I mean, I dunno man. I just didn’t think it would be that big of a deal to you? I mean, I figured we all thought eventually the need would arise for me to be turned, so it was always in the realm of possibility. At least this way I’m not making the decision in a bite or die scenario. Why does this bother you so much? I mean, I get it. I should’ve told you and you’re absolutely right about that, but I guess I don’t see why you’re _this_ worked up about it?” Stiles answered, looking mystified by Scott’s reaction. Derek thought he knew where Scott was coming from. Scott didn’t want this and he envied Stiles for his humanity. He envied him for his ability to break ties with the pack if he needed to. Scott didn’t have as many options since becoming a wolf and he saw it more as a curse than it was. 

“I DON’T WANT YOU TO BE A WEREWOLF!” Scott yelled, frustration finally peaking. Derek heard but didn’t feel the snarl come out of him. He only knew he was in front of Stiles and half shifted once he took in Scott’s surprised expression. Schooling his features, he shifted back and relaxed out of his defensive stance. Scott nodded at him once like he understood. He’d gone too far with it being so close to the mating ceremony. Derek would defend Stiles and over-react to any threat until his mate was claimed properly. 

“Sorry man.” Scott said, backing up a pace. Derek was already backing away to sit on the bed next to Stiles who was grinning at him as if he’d done something particularly adorable. Derek pursed his lips and looked away, ignoring the heat that traveled up his neck and cheeks. 

“Look, Scott. I know you don’t want me to be a werewolf. I know you really don’t want to be a werewolf. But this is honestly not your decision to make. This is mine. This is my body and my life and my decision. I’m sorry that it’s not the decision you would’ve made for yourself if you’d been given the choice. And I’m sorry for not telling you about it before talking to anyone else. That was a shitty thing to do.” Stiles paused to let his apology rest before starting up again. “But, it’s my mating ceremony tomorrow, dude. I’m getting married! Be happy for me. The rest isn’t of immediate relevance.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m just being grumpy. I’m sorry I yelled at you. Derek, I’m sorry I made you feel like I threatened your mate. I’m—I’m going downstairs to see if there’s anything I can help with.” Scott said a little sullenly, waving a hand at them before turning and going downstairs. Stiles waited until he heard the door slam to turn to Derek and look at him with wide eyes. 

“Dude.” 

“Don’t call me dude.” Derek replied, smiling and pulling Stiles against him. He smiled as he buried his nose into Stiles’ hair while Stiles squeaked and thrashed below him. 

“Possessive jerk…. Scenting me…. How dare you!” Stiles grunted when Derek kept him against his chest, rubbing his cheeks over his skin and against his hair even as Stiles struggled weakly. He could tell by the tone in Stiles voice that he didn’t really mind what was happening, especially when Derek found the ticklish spot on his ribs and began digging in with his fingers. 

“SSTTOOOOpp! You’re killing me!” Stiles giggled, screaming with mirth as he struggled more fiercely against Derek’s hold. Derek was letting him slip through just to catch his arms again, enjoying the play. When he’d pinned Stiles beneath him on the mattress, wrists held above his head by one of Derek’s hands while the other hovered over the spots he knew Stiles was most ticklish, he knew he’d won. Stiles was at the point of being flushed and breathless, flinching and giggling whenever Derek jerked his hand like he was about to touch him. 

“You’re such a dick.” Stiles gasped which Derek only gently lowered his hand onto Stiles’ ribs before letting go of his wrists. Derek only hummed in agreement, using the opportunity to bend down and lick over Stiles’ Adam’s apple. He felt Stiles’ body shudder beneath his and suddenly wished everyone was gone for the day so he could continue to make Stiles shake beneath him. 

“One more day, Stiles. Where do you want me to claim you?” Derek asked, rubbing the side of his cheek against the underside of Stiles’ jaw. He knew Stiles loved the feeling of his stubble scratching over the skin. He loved the way Stiles’ skin tasted as blood rushed to the surface. He planted open mouthed kisses over Stiles’ throat, pulling skin between his teeth to nip occasionally. Stiles’ breathing was getting louder above him and he knew Stiles was having to remind himself that there were other people around so he had to be quiet. Slipping his lips further up Stiles’ neck, Derek hovered near the shell of Stiles’ ear before he asked again. 

“Where do you want me to claim you, Stiles?” The full body shudder that ran through Stiles made Derek’s teeth ache. He wanted to pin Stiles down and roll his hips against him, show him how much he wanted to jump the gun and stake another kind of claim. He was already harder than he needed to be in a house full of wolves. 

“The shoulder… up- up by my neck…” Stiles stuttered out, moving his legs to slip out from under Derek and widen so Derek could rest his body between Stiles’ open legs. Stiles hands were roaming, slipping under Derek’s shirt to smooth over the skin of his back and sides as Derek began kissing down his neck to the spot he thought Stiles meant. 

“Right here?” Derek asked, kissing the juncture between neck and shoulder lightly. Stiles’ head was tilted away to give him full access to the area. 

“Mm further.” Stiles murmured, one hand slipping out of the back of Derek’s shirt to rest on the back of his head while he slipped further down Stiles’ shoulder. He moved the collar down with one of his hands and kissed a spot above Stiles’ clavical where the meat of his muscle lay. 

“Here?” he whispered against Stiles’ skin, not failing to notice the wave of goosebumps that erupted over Stiles’ skin even as his scent turned spicier with arousal. 

“There. That’s where I want it…” Stiles whispered back, his hand lightly pressing against Derek’s head even as his hips ground up against Derek to get some much needed friction between them. Derek smiled against Stiles’ skin, opening his mouth and barely scraping over the muscle with his teeth. Stiles let out the quietest whimper at the feeling, his hands tightening reflexively against Derek’s skin. 

“Good to know. This is where I’ll do it then. Want me to show you where I want mine?” Derek asked, coming up to share a filthy kiss even as Stiles nodded against his mouth. His hand came up to cup Stiles’ jaw, stilling him and tilting his face so that Derek could deepen the kiss even as he ground his hips down into Stiles’. They stayed like that, grinding and kissing like teenagers until Stiles’ broke away for need of oxygen. Derek took that opportunity to lift himself away, however reluctantly, to lay next to Stiles. 

“Turn over onto your belly so I can show you where I want you to claim me.” Derek’s voice was husky and sounded more like a growl to his own ears than a human voice. Stiles bit his bottom lip and grinned at him before rolling quickly onto his stomach, propping his torso up with his elbows. Derek threw a leg over his, straddling him right below his ass. When he leaned over to push Stiles neck down, the hard bulge between his legs rocked between Stiles’ ass cheeks through their jeans. Stiles let out a breathy sigh, even as he arched his back and tried to cant his hips so that he could have more contact with Derek’s crotch. 

Derek slid his hands up Stiles’ back over his shirt, smoothing over the cloth covered muscles. He rested his lips on the tip of Stiles’ vertebrae that poked from beneath his collar. He moved up, rolling his hips minutely as he opened his mouth to kiss the area behind Stiles’ neck and above his shoulder. He let his teeth scraped over the nape of Stiles’ neck. 

“Here. This is where I want you to claim me.” Derek said softly, mouth over the spot and rolling his hips more firmly against the swell of Stiles’ ass. Stiles let out a soft groan, hand reaching over his shoulder to grab a handful of Derek’s hair as he rocked his own hips back against Derek’s. 

“Let’s go to the bathroom.” Stiles gasped out, trying to keep his voice down. Derek nodded against his back before crawling back and off of him. As soon as Stiles was standing, Derek was holding him against his body, mouth claiming him with kisses to swallow an sounds. He walked them through the first set of bathroom doors, closing them behind him and then he kept going until he crowded Stiles into the water closet. 

“We still have to be quiet and we have to be quick.” Derek breathed, even as he worked Stiles pants open and began shoving the material down his hips and thighs. Stiles nodded and kissed him, getting his own pants only open enough to shove a hand roughly inside in order to wrap a dry hand around his cock and pull him out. Derek was startled when Stiles broke their kisses off abruptly and then dropped to his knees in the cramped space, hand pulled Derek’s foreskin back even as his lips and tongue wrapped around Derek’s cock head. 

“Oh fuck!” The words had punched out of Derek before he could stop them, luckily barely louder than a gasp. He looked down at Stiles for only a second before bracing himself and looking at the ceiling. If he kept watching, he’d only last another minute at most and while this needed to be quick, he wasn’t sure he needed it to be quite _that_ quick. Stiles didn’t seem to hold the same opinion as he turned the blowjob sloppy and then began intermittently deep throating Derek, his tongue lapping greedily at Derek’s slit he needed a breathing break. 

“Stiles, Stiles! Stand up! Turn around” Derek choked out, pulling at Stiles’ hair to get him to stand. Stiles did and Derek whipped him around, pressing him against the opposite wall. Stiles hand was already roughly stroking over his own cock as Derek pressed Stiles legs together and then guided his dick in between them. Stiles’ spit and Derek’s own precum smeared messily between Stiles’ thighs with every sharp thrust, spreading and slicking the way for Derek’s cock. Derek pressed Stiles’ back, his hand resting securely on his stomach even as the other one propped him up so he wasn’t completely resting against Stiles’ back. The only sound between them was their harsh breathing as each sought completion. Derek could feel his orgasm building low in his belly as he rested his head between Stiles’ shoulders and began to watch where his dick was disappearing between Stiles’ thighs. His cock head would bump the back of Stiles’ balls occasionally, sending little sharp shocks of pleasure through him. 

“You’re mine.” He growled, shifting to bring his face closer to Stiles’ ear. His thrusts were growing erratic as the pleasure was starting to surge through him. His teeth caught Stiles’ earlobe and even as he spilled between Stiles’ thighs, coating the back of his balls and the skin with his cum, he said it again, “You are mine.” 

“Yours.” Stiles breathed, his own orgasm spilling over his fingers and painting the bathroom wall in front of him. “Yours.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before the end. Oh my!
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos, comments, or come see me on tumblr. I'm [SkinSharpenedTeeth](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com).


	15. The 'M' Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are mated. Mates they be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. It's a little short (okay, pretty short) but I didn't want to write it from a single perspective. I hope it still reads okay. :)
> 
> I hope you guys know exactly how amazing you've all been throughout this. New readers, appreciate the old since they're the reason I finally finished this thing! It's my first chapter fic in almost ten years and it was sometimes a struggle to get through. I hope you guys liked it and I hope to see you on my future works. Until then, enjoy!
> 
> Not beta'd. I'm pretty good at taking critique so feel free to drop me a line if I missed something.

The day of the wedding found Stiles blindfolded and lead across the backyard to where presumably he would be seeing Derek fairly soon. Allison’s tight grip on his upper arm kept him balanced until he was told to stand still and wait. Stiles would be annoyed if he weren’t so nervous. What if Derek changed his mind out of nowhere? What if this wasn’t the best decision? What if Derek suddenly decided Stiles wasn’t good enough? The questions were irrational, he knew, but he couldn’t help but wonder what if all of this went wrong? What would be do with his life if Derek didn’t want to be apart of it?

While Stiles freaked out outside, Derek was forced to stay in the cabin, pacing nervously in front of the fireplace as everyone readied themselves for the ceremony. Lydia’s flare for the dramatic was put to good use in keeping both of them from seeing too much of the backyard the week prior and now he had no desire to see it at all. He just wanted to be mated and have this part of the evening behind them. It was nerve-wracking to know that the time was so close, but still be expected to wait. Lydia occasionally glanced at him from the kitchen counter where she was propped on one of the barstools. She waited until almost full dark was upon the clearing to give the signal to Scott and Boyd that it was time to begin before she walked through the back door and down to the middle of the clearing where she’d set the space for the ceremony. Stiles had the blindfold taken off of him just as Derek was allowed to set foot onto the back deck, Boyd at his side. 

From where Stiles stood, he could see the Turkish style carpets he was lead down to get to the middle of the clearing and that he was standing next to a large pole in the center. The RV’s were parked in a semi-circle around the edges of the clearing, horse-shoe opening to the deck. It was dark enough that even though he recognized the people standing around him in an almost complete circle, he could make out any details about their clothes or easily discern their expressions. Derek was just a dark blob against the darker blob of the house, Boyd standing over his shoulder like a ghost. Stiles swallowed convulsively, hands feeling cold and clammy with nerves. This was it. 

Derek could see a little better than Stiles thanks to his werewolf senses and could see that lights were indeed strung from each RV to the middle pole. The breeze brought to him the scents of many people, but it most importantly told him that Stiles was waiting in the center of those people and it told him Stiles stood there nervously. He could see that Lydia had gone to much expense with the decorations surrounding the main circle, even having the pack build a small, raised dance floor one side of the semi-circle. He could smell the new spring grass and rich earth coming alive beneath the feet of his friends. When Boyd placed a hand at his elbow, he knew it was time to move forward. Looking down to make sure he didn’t miss any of the steps in the thickening darkness, Derek began to approach the circle, his own nerves starting to flare as he approached Stiles for hopefully the last time without him as his mate. 

Derek was brought up short a step away from the beginning of the aisle that would lead him to Stiles. A fire flared to life next on the side of the path blinding him into almost taking a step backwards. Benicio stepped forward from behind the torch, his face serious and mysterious in the flickering light. 

“State your intent.” He intoned to Derek, voice serious and carrying so that even the non-human pack members could hear him. His pack and Stiles stared at him from the middle, but he could barely see them for the brightness of the flames. Derek looked back to Benicio before answering. 

“I am here to take my mate. I ask for my pack, my family, and you to bless our bond.” Derek recited, having been given a rough guide of what was expected at each stage of the ceremony. All was silent for a moment as he and Benicio regarded each other. Then Benicio stood aside and beckoned Derek to go down the lane and into the middle of his friends with Stiles. When Benicio and Derek were inside the open area surrounded by their pack, Boyd stopped in the open spot to close the circle completely. Everyone stayed silent and watchful, eyes serious to what they were going to witness. The night was beginning to feel more like magic as their play progressed. 

Benicio fed the fire from his torch to five planted torches inside of the circle. He extinguished his after the last one was lit in a water bucket near the edge. When he returned to the middle, Stiles and Derek were facing each other and holding hands. Derek couldn’t even appreciate the cut and appeal of Stiles’ suit at that moment. All he could think about was that he was going to be mated soon to someone he would do anything for. Stiles, likewise, was distracted by thinking of all the things that life might have in store for both of them. 

“A pack is only as strong as its Alpha. This pack has two alphas and two sources of strength from which to draw. Derek Hale is a strong man, but still need guidance to continue being a good alpha to his pack. Stiles Stilinski is a human who runs with wolves, which takes a different kind of strength. He needs his alpha to help him rely on the pack as much as they rely on him. They have completed a five month ritual to get here to decide whether they are to be mated. I ask the pack, though, if they give their blessing first. Is any of you does not wish to see these two mated, please step out of the circle.” Benicio turned and eyed everyone. No one flinched. No one moved. Everyone stayed perfectly still, heartbeats even. 

“Next I ask family. If you do not want to see them mated, now is the time to step out of the circle.” Benicio looked between Cora and the Sheriff to see if they were going to move. Both stayed still, heartbeats even. 

“Derek also asked for my blessing. I have not known these two for very long, but I can tell how much the mean to the people they allow in their lives. Each of you has sought me out to talk to me about them. Some jested about how long it took for them to finally get together, some expressed concern that I wouldn’t see their love because of its subtlety, and some came to me to tell me stories of how they had come together for the pack time and time again throughout the years. Now I have no doubts about their character and they are good people, willing to work together for the sake of the packs. Now it is time for us to ask them, however, if they want to be mated.” 

“Stiles, this is a life-long commitment. You are human now and have the capacity to come and go as you please. Wolves mate for life. Even if you leave, as long as Derek lives you will be his mate. I know you have accepted his offer for The Bite at a later time, which will bind you to him at that time as he will be bound to you now. Do you want to go through with the claiming and be mated to Derek?” 

It felt like the entire circle inhaled as one and waited. Stiles tore his eyes from Derek’s to look at Benicio steadily. He’d never felt more calm or certain about anything in his life. 

“Yes. I want to be claimed and mated to Derek Hale for the rest of our lives.” Stiles answered slowly before turning back to continue staring at Derek. Benicio nodded and then turned his attention to Derek. 

“Derek, you are an Alpha. You must lead the pack and protect it against all things, even if this costs you your own happiness. Stiles is already a part of your pack, but you must weigh within yourself if you believe he could also help you lead the pack. An alpha’s mate is his second-in-command, his partner, and his weakest link. Do you want to go through with the claiming and be mated to Stiles?” 

Derek kept his eyes on Stiles, even as he answered Benicio. 

“Stiles is mine and I am his. Yes, I want to be claimed and mated to Stiles Stilinski for the rest of our lives.” 

“Then we will say the ritual oaths and you will each bestow your claim. Pack and family begin first.” Benicio stepped back and lifted his hands like a band director, helping everyone start at the same time by the drop of his arms. 

“We, the pack of Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski, bless this union. Claim and be mated. Blessings upon you both.” The group intoned. Stiles eyes were shining more brightly, mirroring Derek’s as they waited for the echo to fade from their pack’s voices. When silence reigned over the circle again, they began to speak in unison. 

“From now on, you will feel no rain for I will be your shelter. You will feel no cold for I will be your warmth. You will know no hunger for I will feed you. Loneliness will be a stranger, for this life forward now has both of us joined to it. I claim you as my mate, my pack, my family, my life. I claim you over all others and against all others I will defend you.” 

Stiles stepped closer to Derek, bringing their hands to his chest as he looked at Derek through watery eyes. His happiness ran down his cheeks and dripped off his chin as he stared at his mate. 

“Do you accept my mark?” Stiles asked. 

“I accept it.” Derek replied, letting go of Stiles hands and turning. He felt the steadying weight of Stiles hands on his shoulder and then the hot breath of Stiles against the nape of his neck. Slowly, Stiles fit his teeth around the flesh he found there. When he bit down, Derek’s body became pure energy. It was the best orgasm and the most comforting hug. He felt connected to the body behind him in a way that he had never felt towards anyone, even his own mother. The euphoria that flooded through him was astounding and irrefutable. When it ended, it wasn’t abrupt. It only died down, like a wave which had crested and fallen over him. The feeling was spread throughout his body, pooling so that he could function around it. When he turned and looked at Stiles, the wonder must’ve shown on his face because he couldn’t stop himself from lurching forward to kiss his own blood off Stiles’ mouth. He stopped kissing Stiles onto to pull away and repeat the same question to Stiles that had been asked of him. 

“Do you accept my mark?” Derek asked, breath still slightly uneven between them. Stiles nodded and pulled back a step. He unbuttoned four buttons on his shirt and pulled it out of the way for Derek. The pull to complete the bond was overwhelming for both of them. Even as Derek walked forward to put his mouth against Stiles’ shoulder, Stiles’ hand was reaching to cup the back of Derek’s head and pull him in closer. 

The sting of Derek’s teeth was instant and transformative. Stiles knew he loved the feeling of Derek’s mouth against him and the bright flashes of pain that came with being nipped or bitten during sex, but this bite was so much more. Colors burst behind his eyes until they collided as one to white. The tingles that shot through every nerve made him feel alive and dead at the same time. He wanted to sink into the feeling and warmth that spread through him. He wanted the pack to come with him. Mostly, he wanted Derek to crawl inside of him so that they could stop the illusion of mortal shells and rejoin together as one, as they were. 

As the feeling ebbed within Stiles as well, he felt Derek detach from his skin and pull back. Now we understood the compulsion. The blood was secondary to the need to find that connection, to relive that flare over and over. Their lips joined together again, the tang of their blood mixing over their tongue and lips. They were only vaguely aware of the celebration of the pack around them as they tried to drown in each other. What finally broke them apart was the eruption of incandescent light around them. 

“Time to celebrate, you two!” Allison’s voiced called at them, just as Kira, Scott, Melissa, and Stiles’ father surrounded them in a tight group hug. Stiles and Derek looked at each other with smiles brighter than all the lights around them, letting themselves be pulled into the jubilation of the pack. They were together and they would always stay that way, come what may. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THank you so much for reading! Please let me know how you guys felt about the story! I take kudos, comments, or messages through tumblr. 
> 
> Check out tumblr for other stories, one shots, and sterek insanity. I'm [SkinSharpenedTeeth](http://skinsharpenedteeth.tumblr.com) and I love you!


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